Love in a Dead World
by dme1994
Summary: Sure, people sometimes say, "Life's a living hell." But now that's taken into a literal meaning for Michelle. She's gone through shit in this new God forsaken world that's far worse than anything she had undergone in her time in the military. Surviving is what matters now...but not many can hold on to their humanity when trying to. I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"I've finished reading your bedtime story, and it's time to head to bed," I say as I get up from the bed and set the book down on the nightstand.

"Awwww, I don't want to go to bed yet…" the dark-curly haired girl pouts while crossing her arms and laying down.

"Elena," I say sternly while tilting my head a bit. "You have school tomorrow, and I don't want you to be tired. You need your energy – tu energía."

"But mom…" Elena muttered as she pulled the blankets to her face.

"Que? Estas bien?" I ask as I lean toward her to touch her forehead.

"I'm just…scared…" she whimpered as tears form in her bright green eyes.

"Scared of what, honey?" I ask in concern as I sit beside her and place my hand on her cheek.

"I had a bad dream last night…" she replies while rubbing her eye. "A monster was trying to take me away into the darkness…I was all alone…Tenia mucho miedo…"

"I'll sleep with you tonight, that way you're not scared," I say as I pull the sheets over my legs and lay down beside her.

I reach for the lamp on the nightstand to my right and switch the light off. The room is illuminated with the light of the full moon pouring in from the bedroom window. I turn on my side as Elena cuddles into my chest.

"I don't want you feeling lonely and scared," I say softly as I caress Elena's hair.

"I've been afraid since daddy died…"

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid that I'd lose you, too…" she responds as I feel her hand clutch my shirt. "You'd go away a lot for your job…. I'm afraid you're going to have to leave again and not return…I don't want to be left alone…"

"I left my job to be with you after your father died…I didn't want you to feel lonely every time I left when I was called for duty…"

I stare into the dimly lit room in deep thought.

"I don't want to be lonely, mommy," Elena whispers, interrupting my thoughts.

I feel some tears form in my eyes, but I fight them back and close them.

"You won't be, baby. Whenever you feel lonely, just remember that I'll be here…No matter what, always know that I'll be here and in your heart."

"And I'll always be here for you, mom…and I'll always be in _your_ heart."

"Siempre en mi corazon," I whisper as I embrace Elena in my arms. "Okay?"

"Siempre."

I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. The dim light finds its way through the ragged, stained curtains. There's absolute silence in the room other than my soft breathing. I continue to lay there, inhaling and exhaling. After a few moments, I finally decided to get up. I begin to sit up quickly but jerk back down from the sudden pain on my left side. I forgot about the incident last night with some hostile survivors. It was part of the reason I slept longer than usual.

I turn my head to my right and reach for the bottle of pain killers and a bottle of water on the floor. It's a single mattress on the floor that I'm laying on with no bedframe. It's a bit torn on the sides and has some dirt stains; not the best mattress to sleep on, but it's enough to let me sleep comfortably. I pop two pills in my mouth and sit up slightly to sip some water. I sigh with my eyes closed and lay back down on the mattress, brushing some of my dark curls off my face.

'That was a close call last night,' I think to myself. 'Had it not been for my military experience, I probably wouldn't have survived that attack…'

I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling again. I attempt to move my side a bit but grit my teeth as I still feel some pain.

'A few of them managed to escape...I took care of some of their buddies, though…Biters might have gotten to their bodies and feasted on them by now.'

I take a deep breath and sit up. The piercing pain shoots through my side, but I continue to ignore it. I manage to stand on my feet and slowly move toward a wooden chair in front of a metal picnic table. Carefully, I plop myself down on the chair. I look at my side and see that some blood has leaked through my dark blue tank top. Upon lifting my shirt up, I see that blood had dripped out through the bandaged cloth. I reach for the medical kit resting on the table and open it, taking out some clean cloths and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. I peel the bloody bandaged cloth off the 3-inch long stitched wound and wipe it clean with a cloth. I then soak another cloth with hydrogen peroxide and apply it over the wound. Grunting from the bit of pain, I continue to wipe the wound. I reach for some thick medical tape, cut it, and grab a large piece of cloth. I place the clean cloth over my stitched wound and secure it on my skin with the thick medical tape.

"Son of a bitch got me good," I mutter in annoyance.

I sigh heavily before getting up and moving toward a tall, burgundy dresser. It's one thing having to worry about those damn _things_. But there are hostile survivors that you have to watch out for, too. They kill people for whatever supplies they need. Shit, some kill _just for the hell of it_. There aren't a lot of humans who survive out there, but a good amount of those who do aren't human – many have lost their human qualities. I don't blame them. Who _wouldn't_ lose their humanity after all this shit?

I pull out a black, long sleeve shirt from the top drawer of the dresser. I take my bloody tank top off and put the clean shirt on.

'I'll have to set some more traps up around the town later,' I think to myself as I head over to the bathroom with the bloody tank top in my hand. 'Those bastards from last night set off quite a number of them. I have to make sure the town has traps that I can use in case anything goes down at any time.'

I turn the faucet on for warm water and toss the bloody tank top in the porcelain sink. I reach for the bottle of soap on the counter and squirt some drops on to the now wet tank top. I begin to rinse the shirt where the blood stain is and watch as the white bubbles mix with the blood that is now running down the drain.

'Well, the good thing about the encounter with those goons I managed to kill last night is that I got to take their weapons and ammunition and other supplies…a lot of it is very useful. I just hope they don't come back…'

As soon as I see that all of the blood has washed out of the shirt, I rinse the rest of the bubbles out. I turn the faucet off and begin to squeeze the shirt to get rid of the water. After seeing that no more water drips, I walk toward the shower and hang the tank top on the shower curtain's rod. I head toward the mattress and slowly lay myself down on it, wincing a bit from pain.

'I'll rest a little longer until the pain killers kick in so that I can head around town to scout the area and set up more traps….'

I rest my arm across my stomach and stare up at the ceiling. The dark, beige paint has chipped off over time. There are some cracks along the edges with some stains.

'I'm going to have to move on from this place soon…I need a new setting…a change…'

My eyes feel a bit tired, so I close them. Drowsiness is beginning to take over.

'I hope to see you again in my dreams, Elena…'

The sound of gun shots causes me to shoot my eyes open. I sit up quickly and get on my feet to walk to the window. I stand close against the wall and carefully peer through the ragged and stained curtains. I glance around the street in front of the house and see no one. More shots are fired. I can now tell they're being fired some streets away, so I won't be able to see who the shots are coming from.

"Shit," I hiss as I move quickly toward a large green cabinet. "It might be those assholes from last night."

I grab my bulletproof vest and quickly put it on. I reach for my gun and blade holsters and strap them on my thighs. Shots continue to be fired. I reach for my pistol and stick it in the holster, and then grab an assault rifle with a strap, putting it over my shoulder. I move quickly toward the chair where my black combat boots are sitting and slip them on. With that, I lunge toward the bedroom door and head down the stairs. I take the back door of the house, not wanting to be seen if anyone is near the front. Because I created a perimeter through this small town, I know it like the back of my hand. I run swiftly toward through fences where the boards can easily be moved to the side to get through. Shots are still being fired.

'Sounds like survivors are shooting at one another besides the biters,' I think to myself as I sprint down an alleyway. 'Hopefully, at least one group of the survivors is friendly.'

I reach the street where the gun fight is taking place. I crouch and move swiftly behind some cars. One biter that's missing its legs attempts to reach for me from under a car, but I quickly grab my 5-inch combat knife and jam it into its skull. I scan around the area and see two men crouched behind a silver minivan a street down. They're shooting in the opposite direction from where I'm at, so the other shooters must be on the other street across. I place my blade back in its holster and grab my pistol. I move stealthily past some cars with my pistol ready in my hand. Wanting to get a glimpse of who the other shooters are, I make my way toward the back entrance of one of the stores on the street that's in the middle of where the gun fight is.

I quietly opened the back door of a grocery shop and make my way toward one of the windows. I crouch beside it against the wall and peer through the dirty glass window. The other men who are shooting are just some 15 feet away from the store I'm in, hiding behind their two pickup trucks. There are about 5 of them.

'Those are the men from last night,' I think to myself. 'Sons of bitches probably came back looking for me but ran into these other guys…new victims, I suppose.'

I gaze the area around where they are in order to spot any trap I may have set up. Just above them on the street light, I see one of my flash grenades. I spot one of my homemade bombs under an abandoned vehicle that is parked a few feet in front of the men.

'I'll use the flash grenade that's taped to the top of the street light as a distractor. That'll give me the chance to head behind the close car in front of this shop to shield myself after I gun down at least one of the men. If it gets too crazy, I'll shoot the homemade bomb to hopefully take down at least one of them and give me a chance to run for safety.'

With my plan now set, I crouch and swiftly move toward the front door of the shop. I lean against the wall beside it and aim my gun through the broken glass of the door. I mark my shot on the flash grenade and shoot. The sudden explosion causes the men's attention to shift toward the direction it's coming from, and I take this window of opportunity. I kick the shop door open and quickly aim at one of the men, taking him down with a headshot. The other men turn their attention to me now, and I run behind the car in front of the shop for cover. Just as I crouch down, bullets begin to bombard the car I'm hiding behind.

'These pricks have quick-firing guns,' I think to myself as I crouch for cover.

"Well, boys, it looks like the bitch from last night found us!" one of the men yells out. "Thanks for making it easier for us by showing up, sweetheart. Now, we can finish what we started last night!"

"Let her have it, boys!" another man yells.

With that, bullets start to spray toward my direction, hitting the car I'm hiding behind, covering it with bullet holes.

'I won't be able to stick myself out from the side of the car to get a good shot of the bomb,' I think to myself. 'The only other way is to get a shot from under this car.'

I quickly lay on my stomach on the pavement and peer between the two left tires of the car I'm under. The car which the homemade bomb is under is in clear view, just some 15 feet away. I take aim of it, and without hesitation, I fire. The abandoned car explodes, causing the force of the explosion to send some of the men to fall for cover. The explosion also causes one of their pickup trucks to topple over on its side. I see the men down on the ground, and I immediately crawl from under the car and run to the other side of the wide street, moving closer to where the men are. One tries to shoot at me, but I have the quicker trigger finger and shoot him straight in the heart. He plops on his back, lifeless. The other three men are also on the ground, still dazed from the explosion. They all slowly crawl to reach their guns on the ground near them, but I grab the guns and throw them in the back of the upstanding pickup truck. I walk over to one of the men. He rolls to his side, leaving his stomach exposed for me to kick. I kick him hard and feel his ribs shatter through my combat boots. When he rolls on his back, I gaze at his face. It was this son of a bitch who stabbed me last night.

"Did you sleep well last night with that wound?" he smartly remarks with a bloody smirk.

I clench my fists and kick him in the stomach again. The man coughs for air and spits some blood out on the pavement. He begins to chuckle.

"You know…it's really a small world we live in…" he begins to say through grunts. "I know who you are."

I gaze at him. From behind me, I see one of the other men trying to lunge at me. I quickly elbow him in the face, making him fall to the ground. I aim my pistol at him and shoot him in the head. The other man also attempts to lunge at me, but I quickly dodge him and shoot him in the chest. He collapses to the ground. I turn my attention back to the other man who's still chuckling.

"Your husband…he was a detective…wasn't he?" the man says before spitting blood out to the pavement.

My eyes open wide in surprise.

"Detective John Foster…the son of a bitch who tried to take me in…I still remember the look on his lifeless face after I shot him."

I freeze up. I feel a lump in my throat form.

"Jason Williams…" I mutter.

"Yeah, you remember me, right?" the man continues. "I remember seeing you in court at your husband's case hearing. What are the odds of meeting up at this time, here?"

I feel tears trying to form in my eyes, but I fight them back.

"When I encountered you last night, I recognized you…Still attractive since the last time I saw you," Jason remarked with a smirk. "But I then remembered your husband's face…he also left a daughter, didn't he?"

At that moment, I pull my gun out and aim at his head.

"Hold it!" I hear a man's voice say from behind me and then moves toward my right. "Lower your weapon."

I notice that the tall, slender man is pointing a gun at me. He was one of the men who was hiding behind the cars on the other end of the street. The other man who was with him appears on my left, pointing a crossbow at me. I return my gaze to Jason who's on the ground.

"Why'd you do it?" I gaze at Jason with stern eyes.

"Why?" Jason continues as he slowly reaches for his back pocket. "Because I could. For sport. For _fun_."

My jaw clenches as anger boils through my veins.

"Say hi to John for me," Jason says as he pulls out his pistol.

My reflexes react, and I shoot him, right through the forehead. I feel my hand shaking as I continue to hold the gun out in front of me. A moment of silence takes place as I stare at Jason's lifeless body, blood pouring on to the pavement from the bullet hole on his head.

"Lower your weapon," the tall, slender man on my right orders me to do in a calm voice, still pointing his gun at me.

After a few seconds of silence, I finally lower my weapon. I shut my eyes, trying to control my breathing and anger.

"Now hand me the gun," the man says calmly as he continues to point the gun at me.

I hand my pistol to him slowly.

"Now hand me the rifle," he calmly says again.

I take the rifle from across my shoulder and hand it to him.

"Who are you? What's your name?" he begins to ask.

"How about we talk at my place," I suggest in a calm manner. "It's not a good idea to chat out here where the biters can smell our aroma. We've made enough noise already, so quite a number of them will be heading this way."

The tall, slender man glances at his partner, then back at me. I gaze into his bright, blue eyes as he studies mine.

"She's right," he finally says. "Our location may not be safe for questioning. Take us to where you reside."

"It's a quick few minutes from here," I say pointing in the direction. "We can take some alleyways. I know where we won't run into those _things_."

"Lead the way," the other man with the crossbow says.

I glance around and head toward the shop I had been in. The two men follow close after me and we enter the shop. I lead them through the route I used to get where the gun fight had taken place, and we arrive in a few minutes as I said.

I lead them through the metal gate of the house I reside in. The gate is the only way into the property, and the rest of the property is surrounded by a 7-foot brick wall, covered in vines. I allow them to go in before I lock the gate up. They follow me up the stairs of the back porch and into the two-floor house.

"Are you the only one living here?" the tall, slender man asks as he cautiously glances around.

"Yes, I'm the only one," I answer.

He and his friend examine the area. They look at the boarded up windows, the old but stable furniture, the worn out structure of the house.

"You can follow me to my room upstairs," I say as I walk up the stairs to the second floor, wincing a bit from the wound on my side which I've forgotten about.

Both of the men nod at one another and follow me. I walk into my room and allow them to scope it out.

"Are you thirsty? Hungry?" I ask them as I walk over to the closet and grab a water bottle and granola bar.

The men look at one another before nodding at me. I toss each of them a bottle of water and a granola bar. I walk over to the chair near the metal picnic table, toss the bullet proof vest on the mattress, and carefully sit down on the chair, putting a hand over my wound as I grunt in a bit of pain.

"My name's Michelle," I say after taking a bite of the granola bar.

"I'm Rick," the tall, slender man responds after gulping down some water.

"Daryl," the other man answers as he munches on the granola bar.

"Pleasure to meet you both," I say after swallowing a piece of granola bar.

"Thank you, for, uh, giving us a hand out there," Rick says as he opens the granola bar wrapper.

"No problem at all," I say before taking a sip of water. "I'm glad to know that you guys aren't hostiles."

"What do ya mean?" Daryl asks after finishing the granola bar and then gulping down some water.

"The men who were shooting at you…" I say as I glance at the floor, recalling Jason. "I had a violent encounter with them last night."

"How violent? What happened?" Rick asks with a curious look.

"There were more than those five men; there were about 10 in their group," I begin to explain. "But I managed to kill 5 of them off. They attacked me while I was out scouting the area."

"The man who you killed last," Rick says. "He mentioned someone named John…did you know him beforehand?"

I turn my gaze down to the floor and stay quiet for a moment.

"He and I have history…let's just leave it at that," I reply, taking a sip from my water bottle.

Rick studies me and knows there's something more to my answer but decides not to ask further.

"How long have ya resided here?" Daryl asks, breaking the silence.

"A little over 4 months, I believe," I reply, feeling the pain from my side again but ignore it.

"Over 4 months? By yourself?" Rick asks in disbelief.

I nod as I hold a mouthful of water.

"What's the structure like in this house? Hot water? Electricity?" Rick continues to ask.

"Hot water has been out for about a month. I haven't added any fuel for the heater in the basement because I prefer to save the fuel for my truck. If I need hot water, I'll just heat up a pot of water over the fireplace. This place didn't have electricity when I arrived here. I've relied on candles, lanterns, and solar powered flash lights. As for the structure of the house, it's really old. As you can tell from the cracks on the walls and ceiling, this house has a lot of water damage going on. It won't last longer than a few more weeks, which is why I'm planning on leaving."

I take another gulp of water and place the empty bottle on the table. I glance over at the two men and study them.

"What about you guys; do you have a place you call home?" I ask as bite out of my granola bar.

Rick turns to Daryl and they nod to one another.

"We stay at a prison, about 15 miles from here," Rick answers.

"A prison? Sounds secure," I say as bite the granola bar again.

"Since you helped us out…we can offer you a place there," Rick adds.

"Are you serious?" I ask in surprise. "I'd be so grateful. I can take all of my supplies that I have here to share with your group."

"I have to ask you three questions, first," Rick adds as he walks closer to where I am sitting. "How many…walkers have you killed? Those _things_…"

"So many that I've lost count, really. I think that's pretty obvious."

"How many people have you killed? Those who haven't turned."

"I don't kill survivors unless I _have_ to. Unless they're hostiles, I don't kill other survivors. I've helped quite a lot who have passed through here. Most have stayed for a while but then moved on. That's another reason why I want to leave…I want a change, you know?"

Rick nods and glances at the floor in contemplation, placing his hands on his hips.

"Well, you've answered my third question," Rick says after rubbing his scruffy facial hair.

"Did I pass the test?" I ask a bit jokingly.

Rick looks into my brown eyes and nods with a small smile.

"Welcome to the club," Daryl says.

I laugh a bit at his remark, but my side wound begins to hurt a bit. I wince at the pain and place my hand over my side. Rick and Daryl take notice.

"Are you hurt?" Rick asks.

"Yeah, the son of a bitch who I shot last was the one who stabbed me last night," I say as I lean forward, trying to ignore the pain.

"We have someone who can take a look at your wound back at the prison," Rick offers.

"Well, how about we start loading my truck with all the supplies I have here? I'm sure you've been through a lot, so getting back to your place would be ideal," I suggest as I stand up.

"That sounds like a hell of a plan," Daryl comments. "What do ya need help packin'?"

"I have that closet full of food supplies. There are three large boxes of protein bars, canned food, and other stuff. The green cabinet there is full of weapons and ammunition," I say as I walk toward the cabinet, take a large brown bag and begin to place weapons and ammo inside of it.

Daryl begins to take the three boxes out of the closet and stacks them on top of one another. Rick is helping me fill up two large bags full of weapons and ammo.

"Where'd you get all this?" Rick asks in wonder as he examines all of the weapons.

"I was in the military service before all of this went down," I respond as I stick a rifle inside a bag. "Before I left the town I lived in, I went to the military base and grabbed a hold of these. I also had some in my house beforehand…"

Rick and I finish packing up the weapons and ammo in the bags. I stand up straight and flinch a bit from the pain on my side.

"The pistol you have that you took from me," I say after wincing. "It's my favorite one; I'd be happy if you gave it back."

He gazes into my eyes. I gaze back into his blue eyes and can see that he's still a bit hesitant about trusting me. I honestly don't blame him. It's clear to me that he's a precautious man and knows what he's doing. But I can see hurt deep down in those bright, blue eyes of his. The type of hurt that I see in my own brown eyes every time I look at my reflection.

"I just saved you and your friend and offered to share my supplies with your group," I say, breaking the silence. "You can trust me."

I give him a warm, friendly smile. His eyes open up in surprise upon seeing my smile. He looks as if he hasn't been given a smile like that in so long. Once he comes back to his senses, he grabs my pistol from his belt behind him and hands it to me, trying to smile a bit.

"Thanks!" I say with an appreciative voice. "You can keep that rifle; I've got more as you have seen," I say with a bit of a chuckle as I place my pistol in the holster by my right thigh.

"What else do you have to pack?" Daryl asks, snapping Rick's gaze from me.

"Oh, uh, the medical supplies are in that large container under that picnic table," I reply as I walk over to my dresser and grab a large backpack that's sitting on top. "I'll just pack my clothes real quick and we can start to head downstairs with the supplies."

"Daryl and I will begin to take these things downstairs," Rick says as he carries a box of supplies with Daryl out of the room.

I stuff the few shirts, pants, and under garments that I have in the top drawer inside the dark brown backpack. On top of the dresser, I see my wallet. I open it and see the picture an olive skin little girl with dark curly hair. She's wearing a rose-red dress with a red ribbon tied neatly around the top of her head. The forest-like backdrop fits well with her outfit and pose; she reminds me of Little Red Riding Hood.

'You loved picture days at school,' I think to myself as I gaze at her smiling, warm face.

"We've brought the three boxes of food supplies and the medical equipment downstairs, already," Rick says as he grabs a bag filled with weapons and ammo. "Is there anythin' else you need to get?"

I snap out of my thoughts and quickly close my wallet and stuff it into my bag.

"Done packing my personal items," I say as I head to the bathroom to grab the tank top that's hanging up to dry. "The only other important things to get are the gallons of fuel. They're in the cabinets in the kitchen," I add as I put my backpack on.

I grab the other bag of weapons and ammunition and hurl it over my shoulder, causing me to wince from the sudden pain on my side. Rick reacts immediately and lunges forward to lift the bag from me.

"Let me help you," he offers as he takes the bag and hurls it over his other shoulder.

"Thanks," I say with a sheepish smile. "I keep forgetting about this damn wound. I always end up forgetting about my wounds because I get used to getting them."

Rick stares at me in awe. I ignore his stare and walk out of the room and down the staircase.

"Ya have most of your supplies packed and ready to go," Daryl says as he rubs his nose.

"Yeah, as I said before, I was planning on moving on soon," I say as I head into the kitchen on the left. "You guys came in the nick of time."

"It's gonna be a pain in the ass, though, carryin' all this stuff," Daryl comments as he glances over at the stacked boxes of supplies.

"My pickup truck is in the garage," I respond as I walk toward the back door with two large containers of fuel in my hands. "It can just take about two or three quick trips between the three of us and we'll be ready to go. Though space in my truck is going to be a bit tight."

"We have an SUV parked just a few streets down," Rick says as he carries a large box of supplies. "You can drive us there."

"Sounds like plan!" I say as I open the back door and walk down the porch stairs.

Rick and Daryl follow behind me, both carrying a box of supplies. I lead them to the worn out garage through the side door. Light seeping in from the high stained glass windows illuminate the garage. In the middle, my black, heavy duty Chevy pickup truck is parked. In the back, there are some smaller boxes of supplies and a few more containers of fuel. I place the large containers of fuel in the back of the pickup truck. Daryl places the box of supplies on the ground and jumps on to the flatbed and motions for Rick to hand him the boxes of supplies. I head out of the garage and back into the house to get a bag of ammunition to carry back to the truck. I grit my teeth after feeling some pain but I ignore it. Rick and Daryl are already coming in and ready to pick up another load.

"Did you manage to scavenge any other supplies from the shops and houses around here?" I ask as I walk out the door and down the steps with both the men behind me.

"We found some things in some of the houses," Rick answers as he carries the third box of supplies toward the garage. "But most of these houses are empty."

"Yeah, I figured," I say as I place the bag of ammunition on the ground next to the truck.

Daryl jumps on top of flatbed of the pickup again and motions for Rick to hand him the supplies.

"This is a hell of a truck ya got here," Daryl comments as he places boxes on to the flatbed.

"Yeah, I took it from some whack jobs who attacked me some months ago," I say as I open the door to the driver's seat of the truck.

"That's a habit ya have, huh? Runnin' into crazy people and gettin' into some deep shit," Daryl jokingly says.

"Apparently so," I reply with a chuckle as I toss my backpack on the seat. "But I know how to hold my own."

"I'm sure ya do," Daryl replies as he moves the boxes of supplies around the flatbed of the truck.

Rick exits the garage and walks back to the house to fetch more supplies. Daryl and I follow after him. Rick tosses the strap of the long bag full of ammunition over his shoulder. That was the last item we gathered to carry to the truck.

"Is that everythin'?" Rick asks as he glances around. "Is there anythin' else you wanna get?"

"Uhh, I don't believe I have anything else," I say glancing around in thought.

"Alright, then, let's go," Daryl says enthusiastically as he shifts the strap of his crossbow a bit and walks out the backdoor.

Rick and I follow after him and head to the garage. I walk toward the open door of the driver's seat as Daryl leaps on top of the flatbed once again.

"I call the back," he says as he sits down and leans his back against the cab of the truck.

I laugh a bit as I climb into the driver's seat after taking the keys out of my pocket. Rick tosses the bag of ammunition on to the flatbed of the truck and walks over to the garage door. He pulls on the chain to the right, causing the garage door to go up with every pull. I stick the key into the ignition and the engine comes to life. As soon as the garage door is fully open, Rick walks to the passenger door of the truck and climbs in. I drive out of the garage, looking left and right, and head down the alleyway.

"Which street did you say your SUV was on?" I ask Rick as I glance around the area.

"Just through that alleyway and into the next street," he replies as he points.

We drive past some biters that are halted by some of the traps I set out. One has been pushed into a long sharp stick that pierced right through its torso in the front. Another lays motionless on the ground, its brains and skull splattered on the pavement by a large rock that fell from above.

"You have a lot of traps set up around this area," Rick observes.

"After having gone through all the ambushes and attacks," I say as I turn past the alley on to the street which Rick instructed me to drive to. "I figured I'd lay some traps around for security. I know the area like the back of my hand and the traps in it. In case shit went down, I knew where to go to detonate traps or distractions, both for biters _and_ hostiles."

"Is that what helped you out with those men last night?"

"Yep. Without those traps, I could have been in worse shape than this wound on my side."

Rick nods as he gazes out the window.

"Those biters…" he begins to say. "We call'em walkers. We stick to that to be able to communicate well…"

"Walkers…" I repeat. "I like that better."

I give Rick a nod as I continue to drive.

"There's our SUV," he says as he points to the right side of the street.

I pull up next to the light, metallic green Hyundai. Daryl jumps off the flatbed and heads to the SUV as Rick climbs out of the truck and closes the door behind him. I observe them talking to each other.

'They're probably deciding on who's going to ride with me,' I think to myself as I pretend not to pay attention to them and fiddle with the car keys in the ignition.

Rick opens the passenger door and climbs in.

"Daryl will be leadin' the way," he says as he closes the door.

I nod as I watch Daryl drive the SUV past us and follow after him. There's a moment of silence in the pickup truck as we drive down the street and onto the highway road. I rest my elbow on the door as I keep my right hand on the steering wheel.

"Did you think I was going to drive off somewhere else?" I ask, breaking the silence.

Rick is surprised and sighs as he glances from left to right, shifting a bit in his seat.

"I'm sorry, I just still need to make sure I can trust you," Rick finally answers. "Please don't take it personal. We've gone through so many traumatic experiences due to trust issues…"

"Rick, I understand," I interrupt him. "I know _exactly_ what you mean."

He looks over at me, but I don't meet his gaze and keep my eyes on the road with a serious face.

"I've gone through a lot of traumatic experiences due to trust before when I was in a group," I continue. "There are some people who you _just can't trust_. And when you make the mistake of doing so…you pay the price for it."

"You were in a group before?"

"Many, actually," I respond as I glance over at a walker who is hobbling down the road. "Too many where people I cared about ended up being killed by people we trusted. From our very own group! You'd think we'd only have to worry about hostiles and those _things_. But we weren't even safe amongst our group."

Rick stares at me in sorrow as he empathizes with me, remembering all that his group has been through.

"I was hesitating about joining your group, to be honest," I say interrupting his thoughts. "But I saw in your eyes that you were desperate…you had people who you cared about. I couldn't resist sharing my supplies and helping you and your group out – it's just in my nature to help those in need and to put others before myself."

Rick is astonished at my words and feels guilty for not being able to trust me. He rubs his chin and looks down in thought.

"You have kids, don't you?" I ask out of nowhere.

He glances over at me in surprise. I smile a bit and see that I'm right, judging by his reaction.

"I can tell. Your vibe and demeanor is that of a father's…I can see it in your eyes."

Rick continues to study me with his pensive blue eyes. I turn to him with a small smile and then turn my attention back on the road.

"Am I right?" I ask to break the silence.

Rick glances out the window as he places his hand on his jaw and rubs the scruff that runs along his jawline.

"You're right," he finally responds. "I have two kids: a boy and a girl. You'll meet'em when we arrive at the prison."

I smile to myself at the thought. But then my gaze changes into a serious one, my eyes full sorrow.

"You lost your wife…didn't you?" I ask abruptly.

I sense him tense up in his seat. He takes a look at his wedding ring on his left ring finger. It was one of the first things I noticed about him. It made me remember my own wedding ring, which I no longer have.

"I did lose her…" Rick says, interrupting my thoughts.

Judging by the tension coming from him, I can tell he doesn't want to stay on the subject.

"I'm sorry…" I apologize, feeling a bit of shame. "I just met you, and here I am, getting into your personal business…"

"It's all right," he interrupts me. "You're just tryin' to get to know me…it's natural to do so when you're just joinin' a new group and meetin' new people."

I nod and don't respond, still feeling a bit bad for asking him that question. I place my left arm along the door again and cup my chin in my left hand, keeping my right hand on the steering wheel. Rick stares out the window, ignoring a legless corpse of a biter on the side of the road.

'He has a lot of pain in him…' I think to myself. 'I think he can sense mine as well.'

With that, we are silent. We continue to drive behind Daryl, past hundreds of trees of the woods around us, to the new place I'm going to call home. A new change.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It's been about 20 minutes, and we finally arrive at our destination. Daryl honks a few times as we drive up toward some metal gates. I am amazed to see the prison. The property is in great condition: the tall metal gates look secure. An African-American woman with long dreadlocks rushes toward the gates along with a young boy. The boy pulls a chain, causing the front gates to open. Daryl drives the SUV in and I quickly follow, seeing that walkers are attracted toward us. The young boy lets the chain down, closing the gates. The black woman stands by, with a katana in her hand, ready to strike any biters if they attempt to walk in. Once the two large doors are closed and secured, the young boy and the black woman quickly head over to our direction where we park the SUV and pickup truck.

I pull the key out from the ignition, killing the engine, and grab my bag as I step out of the truck. Sticking the keys in my jean pockets, I close the driver's door as I examine the property in amazement.

"Wow…" I say in awes as I glance over the property.

"This is it…" Daryl says as he walks over to where I am, his crossbow over his shoulder. "This is the prison."

"It's…it's amazing!" I say with a smile of amazement at him as I wear the strap of my backpack over my right shoulder.

"Glad you like it," Rick says as he walks up next to me on my right.

"Hey, dad," the young man from the front doors says to Rick as he walks toward us, gazing at me in wonder. "Who's this?"

"This is Michelle," Rick answers. "She helped me and Daryl after we were attacked by other survivors. She was also kind enough to share all the supplies she had with us."

I stare at the light skinned boy. His dark brown hair reaches the sides of his lightly freckled face. His blue eyes, same as Rick's, meet mine.

"I'm Carl," the boy says as he holds his hand out to me.

"It's a pleasure," I say shaking his hand, smiling warmly at him.

The slim built black woman with dreadlocks stands on Carl's right side, gazing at me with curiosity.

"And you are?" I ask as I give her the same warm smile.

"Michonne," she answers after a few seconds of studying me, then shakes my hand.

"A pleasure," I say with a smile.

"We'll need some help carrying this stuff inside into the cell blocks," Rick says to Michonne and Carl. "Take whatever you can and take it where the rest of the supplies are."

Daryl leaps on top of the flatbed of my truck and begins to hand Michonne one of the large boxes of supplies. I reach for one of the large ammunition bags, but I feel the sudden pain on my side again. I wince back in pain as I put my hand over where the wound is located.

"Oh no you don't," Rick says as he pulls me back away from the truck. "I'm takin' you to Hershel to get that wound checked out. You can't be liftin' heavy things like that."

"I think I'll be fine, Rick, really," I say ignoring the pain.

"I can't let you risk hurtin'yourself more. You need to make sure the wound can properly heal. Follow me," he says as he carries one of the large ammunition bags over his left shoulder.

He begins to walk toward the entrance of one of the cell block areas. I follow after him with my backpack over my shoulder.

"We run on errands," Rick begins to say as we walk through some metal doors and down a corridor. "You might be sent on one in order to get more supplies that we need with someone from the group. You need to make sure your wound is healed properly so it doesn't burden you when you're out there."

We reach the inside of the cell blocks. I follow Rick up some metal stairs, our footsteps echoing a bit as we make our way up. I glance around and see some people are napping in the cells.

"Hershel?" Rick calls out as he approaches and enters one of the cells. "I've got someone new to the group who needs a wound to be checked out."

I wait just outside the cell, not wanting to just barge into someone else's space.

"Bring'em in," I hear the voice of an elderly man say inside.

Rick motions for me to walk in. I walk into the cell and see an elderly man with grey hair and a short grey beard stand from the bottom bunk of the bunk bed.

"So you're the new addition to the group," the elderly man says as he makes eye contact with me. "I'm Hershel."

"Michelle," I say as I shake his hand.

"Very nice to meet ya, Michelle," Hershel says as he gives me a small smile. "Now, what is this wound Rick is talkin' about?"

"Ah, yes…" I say almost forgetting why I'm here. "It's a stab wound. I was attacked by some hostile survivors last night in the town where Rick and Daryl found me."

"Come and lay down on the bed," Hershel instructs me as he takes a chair and sits on it beside the bed. "Let me take a look at it."

I take the backpack off and set it on the bed and open it.

"I have some medical supplies in case you need some," I say as I pull out a small kit form my bag.

I hand it to him and slowly begin to lay on my right side to expose the wound on the left. As Hershel opens the kit, I lift my black shirt up on my side and reveal the bandaged wound, which has bled through the cloth. Large, dark purple and blue bruises have formed all around my side. Hershel wipes his hands with some of the small disinfectant wipes inside the kit and reaches for the bandaged wound. I feel some sharp pain as he begins to peel the bloody medical tape of my skin. Hershel sees some blood drip out of the stitched up wound.

"Well, I see that ya did a pretty bad job at stitchin' the wound," Hershel says as he reaches for the sewing needle and thick thread.

I chuckle a bit at his remark.

"Will she be all right?" Rick asks as he studies the wound.

"She'll be perfectly fine," Hershel replies as he prepares the sewing needle with the thread. "I just need to remove the thread that's stitched on the wound now, disinfect the wound more, and then stitch it up again before I patch it up."

"You make it sound easier than it sounds," I say jokingly, flinching a bit from some pain as he begins to pull the thread out of my poorly stitched wound.

"I'll be helpin' the others organize some supplies," Rick says as he continues to examine Hershel and the wound. "Do you need anythin', Hershel?"

"_I_ might need a bottle of tequila or something," I say before gritting my teeth as Hershel begins to pull out the thread more from my wound.

Hershel chuckles at my remark and Rick just smiles a bit.

"We'll be fine," Hershel reassures Rick.

Rick nods and looks over at me.

"Hang in there tight, Michelle," Rick says in a joking manner.

"No worries! I've been through worse…ouch!" I respond, squinting my eyes a bit.

Rick chuckles a bit to himself and walks out of the cell with the ammunition bag. Hershel finishes pulling the thread out of my wound and places a cloth underneath my side to stop the blood that's seeping out. I gaze at the wall in deep thought, trying to distract myself from the pain. My eyes stare at nothing as I am in deep thought.

"So how'd ya get yourself into this mess?" Hershel asks, interrupting my thoughts.

"I was scouting the area around my safe house," I answer him after snapping out of my trance. "Then this group of goons showed up and attacked me…they didn't do it to just steal my things…they did it just because they wanted to. For _fun_," I say recalling Jason and the way he said those words to me, causing my jaw to clench.

"How many of them were there?"

"When they attacked me last night, 10…But I killed five of them off before they disappeared…The ones who got away were the ones who attacked Rick and Daryl today. They came back in search of me to finish what they started. I guess they saw Rick and Daryl as victims to warm up before getting to me."

"And you'd been by yourself? Taking those men on?"

"Yeah…it's not the first time I experienced something like that. I've got the bruises and scars to show it, sadly…But hey, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, ya know?"

"We know that very well here," Hershel says as he begins to stitch my wound up. "I speak from experience," he says as he reveals his lost leg, which has been replaced with a support.

I flinch a bit, biting my lip.

"So what happened to you?" I ask.

"I was bitten by a walker in the leg. Rick had to react quickly, so he mutilated my leg…"

I look at him with a bit of surprise, to which he chuckles.

"It sounds bad, but it prevented me from turnin' into one of _them_…" He continues as he wipes some more blood off my wound. "Rick saved my life."

"Damn…that must have been hell for you, though," I say as I stare at him in awe.

"Oh, ya better believe it was," he nods with a bit of a laugh.

I smile at him and turn my gaze back at the floor.

"So ya helped Rick and Daryl out when they were attacked?" Hershel asks as he continues to carefully stitch my wound up.

"Yep. Killed the last five men of that group of hostiles…" I recall Jason once again, feeling anger boil deep inside of me.

"I thank ya for that," Hershel says, bringing me back from my thoughts. "Rick and Daryl are very important to our group…I don't know what we would do without them."

"No problem at all. It's what I do."

Hershel wipes the wound clean with some hydrogen peroxide, causes me to bite my lip. He then grabs some medical tape and sticks it over a thick piece of cloth over my newly stitched wound.

"There…now there should be no more bleedin'…at least not like before," Hershel says as he wipes his hands clean.

"I usually do a much better job at stitching, but I was pretty out of it last night," I say in defense with a chuckle.

"I'm sure," Hershel says with a nod as he reaches for a small packet of pain killers in the medical kit. "Go get some water and take these two to ease the pain a bit."

"Gotcha," I say as I slowly sit myself up on the bed.

"You all done here?" Rick says as he walks into the cell, glancing over at me and Hershel.

"Yep. Michelle is all stitched up. _Well_ this time," he says poking fun at me.

I scoff with a smile at him.

"All right, I'll lead you to your cell now, Michelle," Rick says as he motions for me to follow him.

"Thank you so much, Hershel," I say as I place my hand over his hand and give him a warm smile.

"Anytime, dear," He responds back with a smile. "Now go settle yourself down."

With that, I get up to my feet, ignoring the bit of pain from my side. I follow Rick down the pathway, past three cells to a cell that's right by the top of the stair case. We walk in and I see a bunk bed with a small white pillow and red blanket on it. There is a box filled with food, water bottles, and other supplies in the corner. I also spot one of my large bags with weapons and ammo on the top bunk of the bed. A small lantern sits on the floor next to my bed.

"This is really cozy," I say as I walk toward the bed. "I feel like I'm being spoiled a bit, though."

"You shared your supplies with us, so it's only fair you get a fair amount of it for yourself," Rick says. "It's also to show appreciation for helping me and Daryl back in that town."

I walk over to grab one of the water bottles as I rip open the packet of two pain killers. I place the pills in my mouth and take a sip of water, gulping down the pills. I then slowly sit down on the bottom bunk bed and stare down at the floor.

"Thank you…" I finally say, breaking the brief silence. "Thank you for giving me a place to stay."

"Welcome to your new home," Rick says with a small smile.

I return the smile.

"My cell is the one next door. If I'm there, just come by if you need anythin', or ask one of the others. I'll be outside workin' on the small farm."

"I can help if you…"

"No, stay here and rest," Rick interrupts me, holding his hand up. "After seein' all those bruises on your sides and that wound, you need to lay back for a while. Heal."

"I really can handle it…"

"I know you can…but it's about time you got some more rest after your encounter last night."

I gaze up at him in appreciation and don't bother arguing with him. He gazes at me with those piercing, observant blue eyes.

"I'll rest up," I finally say, breaking the gaze.

Rick nods and walks out of the cell.

I sigh and lay down on the bed, turning my head to face the wall farthest from me.

'He's very caring…' I think to myself. 'He reminds me of John…'

I feel my heart ache in sorrow and I close my eyes at the thought. To avoid tapping into any of my memories that may cause me more heartache, I decide to fall asleep.

"Mommy, can I have a cookie?" Elena asks as she jumps up and down, her dark curls bouncing on the top of her head.

"Mas galletas?" I ask in disbelief. "You've had two already and we just ate dinner!"

"I know, but I just love cookies!" she exclaims, dancing around the kitchen table in her red bunny slippers.

"Well, I can't refuse giving another one to you," I say as I reach for the blue cookie jar inside one of the top cabinets. "Because you got that sweet tooth from me!"

"Yup! We both love sweets!" Elena joyfully says as she claps her hands.

"Indeed we do," I say while handing her a cookie and keeping one for myself. "And no more after this. Remember you have to wake up early tomorrow so that your dad and I can take you out for your birthday. Sugar in your system won't let you fall asleep – don't be like me."

Elena giggles as she nibbles on the chocolate chip cookie.

"I can't wait for my birthday!" she says jumping up and down as she chews, crumbs falling out of her mouth. "I'm going to be 4 years old!"

"That's crazy, isn't it? It's as if it was just yesterday when I held you in my arms and you couldn't eat all of the cookies," I tease as I mess with her hair, biting into my cookie.

"Come on, mom! Let's dance! Quiero bailar!" Elena says as she begins to shake her behind side to side, waving her arms all around.

"Oh, looks like the sugar is getting to us!" I exclaim as I mimic her moves, my long dark curls dancing on my shoulders.

Elena and I dance around as we begin to laugh and playfully tug at each other. As we are lost in laughter and dancing, the phone in the kitchen rings. I continue to hold Elena's hands for a bit longer as we laugh, and then make my way toward the cordless, silver phone connected to the wall.

"Hello?" I answer, still smiling at Elena who continues to dance and giggle.

"Michelle?" I hear a voice ask on the other line.

"Yes, who's speaking?" I ask as I smile over at Elena who continues to dance.

"This is Lieutenant Walkins…"

"Oh! How are you? Did John ask you to call me…"

"Michelle…" Lieutenant Walker interrupts me in a serious tone.

I stand there and stare at the porcelain tile floor. There's a moment of silence.

"John was shot…"

"Oh my God, is he all right?!" I whisper in panic, trying not to let Elena hear me.

Silence once again from the other line. I feel my heart pounding through my chest and my hands begin to tremble.

"John's dead."

I open my eyes and find myself staring up at the white, stained wall across the room. Rubbing my eyes, I sit myself up on the bed, placing my feet on the floor. My gaze sticks to the concrete floor in deep thought.

'I need some fresh air,' I think as I sigh and stretch a bit.

I get up on my feet and make my way out of the cell. Glancing around, I head toward the steel stairs and head down. With every other step, I feel slight pain from my side. I reach the bottom of the stairs and slowly walk toward the exit of the cell block, my gaze at the floor as I rub one of my eyes.

"Up already?" I hear a voice ask in front of me.

I look up and see Rick walking in through the cell bock's entrance.

"How long was I out?" I ask as I rub my forehead.

"No more than an hour," he answers as he wipes dirt off his hands with a cloth. "You sure you're well rested?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I answer feeling the bruising on my side as if on cue. "I've been able to do other things in worse condition. Trust me."

Rick studies me carefully and looks away while rubbing his beard a bit.

"I need some fresh air…" I say as I rub the back of my neck.

"Well, you're more than welcome to head outside," he offers.

"That sounds great," I answer with a small smile.

"Follow me, then," he responds with a small smile as he motions for me to follow him.

We walk out of the cell block and head down the corridor, and head outside. I follow Rick over to an area where a woman with short, grey hair looks to be filling a large container with water.

"Carol," Rick says to her as we approach. "This is Michelle, the new addition to the group."

"Ah, the one who saved you and Daryl earlier today," she teases Rick. "Well, I'm Carol. Nice to have you in the group."

"I'm glad to be a part of it," I respond with a warm smile.

"We're about to have a council meeting," Carol says glancing at Rick. "I know you're not part of it anymore, but I think it'd be a nice opportunity to introduce Michelle."

"Are you all right with that?" Rick asks as he turns to me.

"Fine with me," I say while giving them both a small smile.

With that, Rick and Carol lead the way. I follow them through another entrance into the prison, down a corridor and into a large space. There are shelves filled with books and an area with a carpet. I see Daryl standing by table, cleaning his crossbow. Hershel is sitting on a nearby chair, talking to an Asian man with dark hair that is styled back. An African-American woman is standing nearby, gazing in thought at the wall. Hershel turns his attention toward us as they hear us approaching.

"Ah, just the person who we wanted," Hershel says as he gazes at me.

"Yeah, Michelle!" Daryl exclaims.

"What can I do for you?" I ask standing a few feet away from Hershel after smiling at Daryl.

"We'd like to introduce you to the council," Hershel replies. "You've met the majority, but ya still have a couple left."

"I'm Glen," the Asian man says with a wave.

"And I'm Sasha," the black woman says as she comes closer to the group.

"A pleasure to meet you all," I say with a nod.

"We'd like to thank you for sharing your large amount of supplies with us, and for helping Rick and Daryl out earlier today," Hershel explains.

"That's the big news for today, isn't it?" I say in a joking manner.

"We really appreciate the help," Carol adds.

"Really, it's no problem," I say as I scratch my neck. "I'm always more than happy to help others in need."

"That brings us to our next topic," Hershel says as he shifts himself a bit in the chair. "We'd like to know any skills you have in order to figure out where you can be of use here."

"Of course," I say as I grab a chair and sit, crossing my legs and facing the group. "Before all this went down, I was in the military. I'm expert in many weapons and military tactics. In terms of medical care, I'm skilled enough," I say with a smile at Hershel. "And I have other skills for other needs."

"We definitely know who else is goin' on runs now," Daryl comments with a small smile.

"I'm more than eager to help out with that," I add.

"It's great to have someone from the military in the group," Glen says. "Those skills can definitely help us out."

I give them a nod of acceptance and glance around and wait for someone to ask another question. Everyone glances at one another to see if they want to add anything.

"That was really all we needed to know for now," Hershel says as he turns to me. "You're excused from this meeting; ya could be a great addition to the council, so take some time and consider joinin' to make vital contributions for the group."

"I'll consider it," I say with a nod as I stand up and begin to walk away, with Rick not too far behind me.

Everyone nods and I wave goodbye. Rick and I walk through the bookshelves, down the hallway and corridor, and reach the outside.

"I figured you'd be in the council, too," I ask Rick as he walks alongside me on my right.

"I _was_…" he answers looking around and examining the metal fences that surround the area. "But I left."

"Why is that?"

"I need some time off, a break from all that stress…I also gave up my gun."

"That colt python?" I ask in surprise as I see that he indeed doesn't have the holster nor the gun. "Why would give that beautiful gun up? You used it when you were in the town earlier, didn't you?"

Rick scoffs with a small smile.

"I only used it because I had to go out on that errand to help Daryl. Three of our other group members had gone on another errand, so I was left to aid Daryl."

"Understandable."

We stop some 10 feet from what appears to be a small farm. There's a handmade canopy tent with a table and baskets filled with some fruits and vegetables in them, as well as some boxes. Just some feet away are the crops next to a small fenced space where some pigs are wandering about. I gaze at the small farm in awe.

"Who's the handy farmer who made all this happen?" I ask as I place my hands on my hips.

"Me…" Rick answers as he walks toward the crops. "I've been under Hershel's teachin' on farmin'…He used to own a farm. We resided there before it was overrun by walkers and had to leave…That's when we found this sanctuary," he says as he gazes around.

"Out of all the places, a prison is the best safe haven…to think that it was a place where we didn't want to end up in before all this shit went down," I comment with a small laugh.

"I laugh at myself about that every once in a while," Rick says as he crouches down to examine some crops. "I was a sheriff of the King County sheriff's deputy…It's ironic that I'd end up here for a refuge."

"I can see where you're coming from," I say with a smile.

Rick continues to look through the crops and examines them, making sure they're growing well.

"I can help with some of this stuff," I offer as I walk a bit closer.

"Do you know how to take care of a farm?"

"No…but I can try," I say as I place my hands on my hips and give me a determined gaze.

Rick gazes up at me and thinks for a moment. He finally nods.

"I'll show you some stuff," Rick says as he motions for me to come closer.

I crouch beside him on his left and watch as he examines the crops.

"I planted these with Hershel," he explains. "If it wasn't for him, I'd be a lousy farmer."

"Farming can be a difficult thing," I say as I reach out and touch one of the crops. "But it can be a great way for you to think…almost relaxing."

"That's one of the reasons I do this…I've been able to get my thoughts together…tryin' to forget things…"

"You and I both…" I say as I follow his movements, watering the crops with a small, old purple sprinkler.

Rick listens to my response and stops to think about it. I notice and quickly try to turn to another subject to avoid questioning.

"So what happened to those front gates?" I ask as I look up and point to where the large doors are. "I know a prison doesn't have _those_ kinds of doors for its prisoners…"

"We were attacked not too long ago…" Rick answers as he takes note of me changing the topic on purpose. "We had some issues with a man who goes by 'the Governor'…he ran a small group in Woodbury in a small town…He's a psychopath who took some of our own as prisoners. Even caused the death of one of our friends who was with us in the initial main group…"

"I'm sorry to hear that…"

"Michonne and Daryl have some unfinished business with him and have gone out to track him…I'm afraid that the trail might have gone cold for them."

I continue to water the crops little by little, moving the soil around to make sure water seeps through to the roots of the crops.

"What about you…" Rick begins to say. "What's your story? What have you gone through with previous groups?"

"Well…the first group I was in was rather big…about 12 people," I answer, obviously noticing that Rick wants to know some things. "We were overrun by walkers when camping out and ended up separating. Those who survived, probably around 7 or so, went off on their own…I don't know what happened to them. The second group I ended up saving from a group of hostiles. As a sign of gratitude, they offered me a place in the group. There were 4 of them…I figured a smaller group would be better. But of course, I ended up being wrong. We were attacked by another group of hostiles while dealing with a large group of walkers…We ended up separating in a small town, trying to get away from the walkers and the hostiles. And they either ran into some of those things and were eaten or they were gun down by the hostiles…I wish I could've saved'em…but it all happened so fast. It's one of the reasons why I didn't want to be in a group anymore. I befriended these people…came to care about them…and they all died…I just couldn't stand going through the same thing over and over again…so I stayed on my own, found the town where you and Daryl found me since then."

"Why exactly _did_ you join our group?" Rick asks as he continues to dig through the soil.

"To help is one reason…and I just felt that I needed a change. I came to realize that if I stayed alone, I'd probably end up torturing myself. I want to help those in need – it's what I do. I also wanted to give myself another chance with a group…so I joined yours."

Rick stops messing around with the soil and takes a moment to gaze at me. I continue to move the soil around.

"Well, we're glad you did," Rick says with a voice of gratitude.

I stop digging through the soil and turn my gaze to him.

"I'm glad I did, too," I say with a small, warm smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It's been over two weeks since I arrived at the prison. I've met the other members of the main group and other survivors, such as all the children here. They've all gotten to like me and are glad to have another member who can help the group. I still receive thanks of gratitude for sharing my supplies with them. They are all such humble people…it's great to see that we're all together, looking out for one another.

I've been put to help check the weapons supplies. I have to do it at least once a week to keep track of all our weapons and ammo, keeping it ready at hand in case we need it at any time. I also take it upon myself to help Carol read to the children whenever I can; it's nice to be able to help these kids learn. It's important to help keep at least _some_ of their child qualities in them. I even spend some time with Rick's daughter, Judith. Because of my wound still having to fully heal, I haven't been sent out for an errand, and no else really. I had brought in sufficient supplies that can last us a good while. To keep myself busy when I'm not doing anything or when I want to think and relax, I help Rick out with the farm. I occasionally joke around with Daryl; he's taken the opportunity to start teaching me how to use a crossbow. We place some targets on the empty grass fields within the prison gates, away from the others for safety, and practice there. He was so surprised when I told him about my sun allergy; he keeps teasing me about it, and has started calling me a vampire. Luckily, overtime, I've gotten used to the sun, especially when being in the military. My skin still gets pink and itchy after being exposed for too long, but it's not too bad. As long as I wear a long sleeve shirt, I'm good.

It's some time in the morning. The sun shines down with slightly warm rays. I'm walking along the first set of prison gates, inspecting them and the area around to see if there's anything unusual or in need of fixing. My right hand rests on my gun in its holster strapped around my waist. I have a steel rod in my left hand, holding it down next to my thigh as I glance around outside the gates. A few walkers are gathered by the fence, and they snarl upon seeing me, smelling my aroma of fresh flesh. I walk over toward where they are and glance at the ground at something that's caught my attention. There's a mangled body of a dead mouse right by the gate in front of where the walkers are standing. I examine the mouse carcass and see that it's practically been eaten.

"Probably a late night snack," I say to myself as I glance over at the snarling biters.

I pull the long sleeves of my dark green shirt up to my elbows and take my steel rod, aim it at one of the walker's heads with both my arms, and ram it into its skull through the openings of the gate, blood gushing out of the hole. I aim it at the second walker's head, ram it through its skull and repeat the process with the third walker, making them collapse lifeless to the ground nearly on top of one another. I stare at the corpses in deep thought, studying the decaying that's happened to their body. Their noses aren't intact; their lips are missing, revealing rotting teeth; their eyes are foggy white. It's unbelievable to think that these rotting corpses, these _things_…were once living people. I continue to study them in thought, but suddenly have a flashback. I see Elena lying on a carpet floor, her body facing down on its side.

"Michelle," I hear someone call from behind, interrupting my thoughts.

I turn around and see Rick walking toward me. Not wanting to let him see my teary eyes, I gaze away past the gates. He notices my odd behavior.

"Are you all right?" he asks with concern. "What's wrong?"

I try to avoid his gaze as I feel my lips trembling a bit, slapping my hand against my thigh. Clenching my fist, I sigh and walk past him.

"I'm fine," I say trying to control the shake in my voice.

"It sure doesn't look like it," Rick replies as he follows after me.

"I'll be fine…don't worry about me, really," I say as I stop and turn to him, forcing a small smile. "Have you seen Daryl?"

"He's out in the field. He sent me to get you…I'll take gate inspection duty from here so you can go practice using his crossbow…" he responds while studying my face.

"Thanks…I won't keep him waiting any longer, then…"

I hand him the steel rod and walk away, not turning back to look at him. Rick stares at me with concern and in thought. I head toward the opening of the second gate, pushing it wider and passing through it, and walk into the field. Daryl is standing just some 20 feet away, preparing the crossbow; he's already set up the three targets about 25 feet in front of him. I calm myself down and continue to walk toward him.

"Sup, Daryl?" I say with a smile as I approach him.

"Ready for some intense practice?" he asks as he continues to prepare his crossbow.

"You know it."

"Alright, then," he says handing me the crossbow. "Show me what ya got today. How's your wound doin'?" he asks as I take the crossbow from him.

"Everyone acts like I'm dying or something," I smile with a scoff. "It really is no big deal; it's almost fully healed."

"Pardon me for carin'," he jokingly responds. "You vampire."

I laugh at his remark as I take aim with the crossbow. I close my left eye, peering at the first target on the left with my right eye. Once I feel it's right, I take the shot. The arrow lands just a few inches from the bull's eye.

"Close…" Daryl comments as he studies the arrow imbedded in the target. "You've come a long way in a short amount of time."

"I know how to shoot a gun," I say as I reload the crossbow with another arrow. "It makes it easier…All I need to do is practice to get used to this thing."

I raise the crossbow in front of me, close my left eye and aim with my right at the second target. After a few seconds, I shoot, and the arrow lands a few inches to the left of the bull's eye. I scoff as I reach for another arrow.

"Damn it…" I snarl as I place the arrow in the crossbow.

"It's alright, you're doin' fine," Daryl says. "Just be calm. You've almost got it. Remember to keep the amount of wind in mind before shootin'. All I've told ya to keep in mind should pop into your head when you're about to shoot."

"Yes, Daryl sensei," I jokingly say with a smile as I take aim again.

He chuckles at my remark. I close my left eye and peer through my right at the target once again. After a few seconds, I take the shot. The arrow lands right on the bull's eye.

"Nice shot!" Daryl says as he runs toward the targets to collect the arrows.

"It's about damn time…" I say to myself out loud as I lower the crossbow to my side.

"You really are doin' good," Daryl says as he runs back with the arrows in his hand. "Any of those shots would'a been a kill. You're just bein' a perfectionist."

I chuckle at his remark as he hands me the arrows.

"I wanna try somethin' out," he says. "You're gonna shoot the targets while movin'."

"Oh, shit, a challenge," I comment with a smirk. "About damn time you challenge me."

"I didn't think you'd be up for it," he teases.

"Let's do this," I laugh as I load an arrow into the crossbow.

"Shoot the targets while walkin' from the left toward the right," he explains as he points.

"Gotcha," I say as I walk to the starting point on the left.

I lift the crossbow up and begin to walk quickly while taking aim. I shoot at the first target, hit a bull's eye. Daryl puts a hand to his mouth in surprise. Still walking quickly, I shoot at the second target and hit another bull's eye. I aim at the third target, shoot, and hit the bull's eye.

"Whoo! That's what I'm takin' about!" Daryl cheers with a clap.

I smile as I give him a high five.

"You kicked ass! Now you're gonna be a badass vampire," he jokes.

"You're such a big brother, Daryl," I say after laughing. "Did you have any siblings before all this?"

Daryl gazes from me to the ground with a serious expression. Here I go again, asking the wrong questions at the wrong time…

"I did…" he finally replies looking up at me. "Merle…he was my older brother. He was such an asshole to me all my life, but that's what big brothers do…He still loved and protected me, though…I'm searchin' for the Governor because he's the son'a bitch who killed him."

I then recall what Rick told me about Daryl and Michonne having some unfinished business to take care of.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I say gazing at him with a sad face.

"Nah, it's all right," Daryl says while rubbing his neck. "How about we have ya try shootin' from different angles and positions now?"

"Sounds fun," I say to him with a smile.

The moon's light shines down on the prison through the darkness. The grass dances with the light breeze. It was a pretty typical day after I had practiced shooting the crossbow with Daryl. Everyone did their duties in the long day and are now ready to rest inside their cells in the prison.

I am sitting in the grass field with my legs crossed. The evening breeze blows lightly through my dark curls, making me feel refreshed. I sit up straight, placing my hands on my thighs and inhale the fresh air. I wait a few seconds, holding in my breath, and then exhale slowly. I gaze up at the starry night sky, a beautiful mixture of blue and grey. The bright, glowing moon is slightly covered by a translucent, dark grey cloud. I gaze up at it, mesmerized by its glow.

"You doin' alright?" I hear a voice ask from behind me.

I turn my head and see Rick walking toward me. He sits down about foot away from me on my left.

"Yeah, I'm just out here, enjoying the beautiful night," I answer rubbing my thighs lightly. "Is everyone sleeping yet?"

"Majority," he answers as he lifts his left leg up slightly in front of him and rests his arm on his knee, his chest facing in my direction.

"How's Judith? Is she sleeping too?"

"Yeah, she's sound asleep."

"She's such an angel…" I say with a warm smile looking down at the grass. "It's one of the highlights of my day every time I hold her."

"I'm glad she makes you feel that way," he says in an appreciative tone. "I appreciate your affection toward her and Carl…he really has a likin' in you."

"I'm happy he thinks that of me. He's such a bright young man…he's protective of his sister and everyone…He takes after you in that sense," I say giving Rick a small smile.

Rick gives me a small smile and then looks away in front of him. There's a moment of silence.

"I've wanted to ask you about earlier today…" he finally says in a serious tone. "I wanna make sure you're doin' well…I know you're trying to avoid it."

I gaze down in defeat – he's finally come to confront me.

"What's been goin' on?" he asks again.

I close my eyes for a moment, look up and sigh, opening my eyes.

"I'm sorry I haven't been too open," I begin to say. "I guess it's time to reveal a bit about my past…"

Rick gazes at me with his bright, blue eyes, waiting patiently for me to continue.

"Before everything went to hell, I was in the military," I continue. "I entered after I graduated from college. I grew up and lived in Chicago, so I was back and forth from different bases in different states for about a year…When I came back to Chicago, that's when I had met my husband, John. He was finishing up his years to become an officer. We dated for about a year and a half before he proposed…I was surprised we lasted, especially with me leaving every now and then to the military. I continued to do so for about 6 years. We got married after he was promoted to a detective. He was offered a job back in his home city, Atlanta...where we stayed up until this whole mess."

"What happened to him?" Rick asks, a bit hesitantly. "Was he…killed by walkers?"

"He died while on duty three years ago," I answer after swallowing a bit of saliva.

"Was the man you shot last at the town…" Rick begins to ask. "Was he…was he the one who killed your husband?"

"Yeah…it was him…" I say clenching my right fist. "His face and name have been burned into my memory…It's people like who disgust me. He was the type who just killed people because he could…because it was _fun_," I echo Jason's words. "John was supposed to come home early that night…we were going to celebrate our daughter's 4th birthday the next day…I had gotten into an argument with him the night before…I didn't get to see him in the morning before he went to work because I woke up late after a long night of doing some paperwork…He had called me during the day when he was at work to apologize for what had happened, but it was cut short because he had an emergency to get to, which was to deal with Jason, the man who killed my husband…That was the last time I talked to my husband…I didn't even get to see him in person…alive."

Rick gazes at me in astonishment, his blue eyes wide. I turn my eyes up into the dark, starry sky with a thoughtful expression.

"Losing two of the people you care most about within four years…" I say gazing at two large bright stars in the sky. "You'd think a person wouldn't want to keep going on with life after going through that…But you just gotta keep moving forward with a hopeful attitude and a strong mind," I turn my gaze and give Rick a small smile.

Rick stares at me in awe, just astonished at my words.

"You're a very strong person, Michelle," he finally says. "It's admirable…you're the type of person we need here, to keep people's hopes up and give them the need to keep on goin'."

"It's what I always want to do for as long as I live," I say with a smile as I shrug my shoulders. "What about you, Rick? What's your story? If you don't mind telling me…"

"Well, you shared yours, so it's only fair I share mine," he says shifting himself a bit.

I sit patiently, waiting for him to begin. He rubs the stubble along his jaw and sighs.

"Well, like I said before, I'm former sheriff of the King County sheriff's deputy," he begins. "I grew up and lived in King County…lived with my wife, Lori, and Carl. Right before this all started, I was shot on the line of duty…I had been pursuin' a suspect in a car chase with my then partner and long-time best friend Shane…" he rubs his knee firmly. "I ended up in a coma for some weeks I believe, and woke up in the hospital, which was deserted…No one was in sight, not even when I went outside. Naturally, I had gone to my home to see if Lori and Carl were there…to my dismay, they weren't. I was sure that they were alive and had just fled somewhere to safety…So I put my sheriff uniform on and set out, determined to find them no matter what."

I watch with a look of awe as he looks up at the sky.

"I eventually did…they had been under the care and watch of my best friend Shane. They had been together in a group, which Glen, Carol, and Daryl had been in…As time passed by, I noticed that Shane had started to change; he started to become a stranger. It came to the point where he wanted to kill me to be with my wife and become the leader of the group…I had no other choice but to kill him. It hurt…it hurt to have to kill my best friend, but I had to; for the sake of my family. Before I found them, Lori confessed to me that she and Shane had gotten intimate…I forgave her, but I forbid mention that I might not be the baby's biological father…I see her as my own, _no matter what_."

His words make me smile in admiration.

"Lori ended up dyin' while giving birth to Judith…Carl was the one who shot her before she turned…" he put his left hand on his face, sighing heavily.

I place my left hand over his right one that's resting on the ground. He turns to see it in surprise, and then looks back up at me, gazing into my dark, brown eyes.

"I'm so sorry for your loss…" I say with a look of sorrow in my eyes. "But you're doing a fantastic job…you're a great father, a great leader…I admire you for your strength."

Rick continues to gaze into my eyes for a moment and then nods.

"Thank you," he finally says.

I nod with a warm smile at him as I squeeze his hand in mine a bit before I let go. We both gaze up at the starry night sky as we feel the light breeze.

"Michelle…" he asks, breaking the silence. "…you mentioned you had a daughter…"

I feel myself tense up a bit.

"What happened to her?" Rick says slowly, noticing that I have tensed up at the question.

I look down at the grass and sigh, staying quiet for a moment.

"That's another story for another time," I say while forcing a smile. "For now, I think it's time I head to bed…"

With that, I get up on my feet, and stand there, looking away from Rick.

"Good night, Rick," I say in a low voice.

I then walk into toward the entrance of where the cell blocks are, and head inside. Rick sits there, his gaze toward my direction.

'She's still holdin' somethin' in…' Rick thinks to himself.

After a few moments of contemplation, Rick finally gets up and heads inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Another week has gone by. I find it hard to believe that it's been just about a month since I joined the group. Everyone in the prison is familiar with me now. The kids love to hang out with me and are entertained by the crossbow shooting competitions that Daryl and I have started. My wound is practically healed, so I am expecting Hershel to remove the stitches some time soon. I really do hope so because the stitches are getting on my nerves. Ever since the night Rick and I shared a bit of our lives with one another, we seem to have made more of a connection. He is starting to confide in me his thoughts and feelings about anything. I do the same, feeling that he and I can understand one another on a certain level. He's still, however, trying to find out the story about Elena. I'm not sure if I want to share that with him…at least not anytime soon.

The sun's shining bright outside of the prison. I'm outside by the farm under the canopy tent, examining my pistol to make sure everything is set. It has been a while since I cleaned the barrel. It's a CZ P-07 Duty, my favorite handgun, so I have to make sure I take good care of it. I'd hate for it to malfunction in a life or death situation.

"Hey, Michelle?" I hear someone ask.

I turn to my left and see Carl walking up to me.

"Carl, hey, what's up?" I say as I begin to insert the mag into my gun and place it into my holster around my waist.

"Listen, I know my dad is going on the errand run with you, Daryl and Michonne," he begins to say in a serious tone. "I know that he didn't want me finding out."

Having spent time with Carl, I've come to learn that he's clever at figuring things out.

"He hasn't been using his gun so much, and I know he's still dealing with a lot of things regarding it," Carl continues.

I recall Rick explaining to me the day why he gave up his gun and also took Carl's. Both Rick and Carl have gone through a lot, and Rick wants a psychological break from his gun duties. He also explained he's afraid what kind of person Carl is turning into because of using a gun; it's the reason he took Carl's away. Rick wants his son to start feeling like a kid again…and I respect that.

"I'm afraid he might end up freaking out and will end up getting into trouble," Carl explains.

"Do you want me to try and talk him out of it?" I ask giving him a questionable look.

"Even if you do, he won't listen; my dad's stubborn," Carl says which makes me smile a bit. "That's why I'm going to ask you for a favor."

"Sure, go ahead," I say as I check my mag holster on my waist.

"I want you to keep an eye out for him."

I gaze at Carl and see concern and seriousness in his eyes.

"I hope it's not too much to ask…I know that you and my dad get along well. I just need someone who I can trust to look after him and bring him back safely."

His words astonish me. Here Carl is, a 14-yeard old boy, expressing such a mature kind of concern for his father.

"Don't worry, buddy," I say as I finish securing my holster belt around my waist. "I'll take good care of your dad."

Giving him a warm smile, I mess the top of his hair with my hand. He smiles warmly back at me.

"Yo, Michelle! You ready?" I hear Daryl call out near the drive pathway.

I look over at him and see Rick and Michonne heading toward the pathway as well where the Hyundai SUV is parked.

"Yeah, I'm comin'!" I call out back to him. "I'll take care of your dad while you take care of your sister," I say to Carl as I hold my fist out to him.

He nods with a smile and bumps my fist with his own. I then quickly make my way toward Rick, Michonne and Daryl near the SUV. Michonne and Daryl are about to get into the backseats of the vehicle while Ricks stands just a few away, waiting for me to approach.

"Is Carl all right?" he asks me in a low voice.

"He's fine," I say as I walk past him toward the other side of the SUV. "Just needed a favor. No worries."

Rick turns away with a curious look on his face, but shakes it off and heads to the driver's seat. I climb into the front passenger seat and close the door, Rick then climbing into the driver's seat and closing the door after him. He sticks the key into the ignition and starts the engine.

"We all set to head out?" Rick asks aloud.

"Let's roll," Daryl responds.

With that, Rick gives the signal to Carol and Sasha to open the entrance doors. As soon as they fully open, Rick quickly drives out past the doors and into the highway road. I look through the rear view mirror and see that some walkers are attracted to the closed front doors and the SUV. I place my arm along the side of my door and stare out the window. Daryl is examining his crossbow in the back seat, making sure everything is intact.

"I'm kinda bummed out that we didn't getta have our crossbow competition today, Michelle," Daryl says, breaking the silence.

"You should be glad; otherwise, I would've embarrassed you," I tease, causing Michonne to smile.

"Embarrassed me, yeah right," Daryl says in defense. "I'm the one who taught you what you know."

"Well, the student often comes to surpass the teacher," I retaliate again, causing Rick to scoff with a smile.

"Michelle is kicking your ass, even out of the competition," Michonne chimes in, and I smirk.

"Damn, what's with ya females gangin' up on me?" Daryl remarks and glances in front of him at Rick. "You gonna back me up here, Rick?"

Rick keeps his eyes on the road, rubbing his chin with his left hand while steering with his right.

"You're askin' me for help," Rick answers. "Don't you think that's showin' you can't defend yourself?"

Michonne and I can't hold in our laughter. Daryl looks a bit disappointed.

"Man, whatever!" Daryl pouts and sinks into his seat, crossing his arms.

"Awww, poor little Dawyl," I tease, pronouncing the 'r' in his name with a 'w'. "He's grumpy now."

Daryl just grunts in response and stares out the window.

"I love you too, Daryl," I joke, causing Michonne and Rick to scoff with a smile.

There's another moment of silence. I rest my chin on my fist as I stare out the window again.

"Damn it, it's too quiet," Daryl comes back again. "Let's talk about somethin'. If we could have somethin' to drink, what would yours be?"

"Is yours Kool-Aid?" I tease not being able to resist, making Rick and Michonne chuckle again.

"Let's be serious here," Daryl says. "I'm talkin' liquor."

"Alright, alright, in all seriousness," I say holding my hand up and setting it back down on my thigh. "For me, it would be between tequila and vodka…or anything that has some good taste and liquor."

"Damn alcoholic," Daryl jokes, causing me to burst out with a laugh.

"Hey, after all we've been through, I'd be happy to drink just about anything!" I remark with a shrug while holding my hands up, sheepishly smiling.

"I second that," Daryl agrees. "What about you, Michonne?"

"I'm not that into liquor, but if I had to choose…" she answers. "It would probably be chardonnay white wine."

"Ooo, fancy!" I comment in surprise.

"I'd drink any type of scotch," Daryl shares. "Scotch in a highball glass with some ice cubes…Oh, doesn't that sound refreshin'?"

"Very," I agree, picturing the drink in my head.

"What about you, Rick?" Daryl asks, sitting up closer to Rick's seat.

"Probably whiskey," he answers rubbing the outside of his mouth with his fingers. "Whiskey also in a highball glass with ice."

"Ugh, you guys are making me want to drink," I say leaning my head back against the headrest of my seat.

"Alcoholic," Daryl coughs under his breath.

I laugh and turn toward him, playfully hitting him in the leg with my hand.

"Are you two siblings or something?" Michonne jokes at Daryl and I.

"We're twins," I joke around.

"Yeah, can't ya tell?" Daryl plays along. "We have the same dark, wild curly hair," he says as he flips his flat, brown bangs off his face.

We all burst out in a bit of laughter.

"I'm sorry, Daryl, but I think you'd look disturbing with hair like mine," I say turning to him.

"I seriously wouldn't be surprised if you two happen to be related," Michonne comments jokingly.

"That'd be interesting," I say as I look at one of my nails. "But Daryl and I are different races: he's white, I'm not."

"Wait, then, what are ya?" Daryl asks in curiosity.

"I'm Mexican," I answer in s simple tone.

"Are ya serious?" Daryl says in astonishment with Rick also showing surprise.

"I wouldn't have thought you were Mexican, either," Michonne adds.

"Yeah, I used to get that lot," I reply as I stare out the window. "People would think I'm Italian or something…"

"Say something in Spanish," Daryl says as he leans forward toward me.

"Tu eres como un niño chiquito; bien tonto," I reply turning and looking straight at Daryl.

"That sounded cool," Daryl exclaims. "What did ya say?"

"You're like a little boy; very dumb," I translate, giving him a playfully wink.

Michonne and Rick laugh a bit.

"You'n'I _are_ a lot like siblins'," Daryl comments with a laugh as he sits back in his seat.

I chuckle and return my gaze back out the window. After a few seconds, I turn my attention to Rick, who's concentrated on the road.

"Why are you so quiet over there, sheriff?" I say lightly tapping him on the shoulder. "You doin' all right?"

"Just listenin' to you kids," he jokes.

"Oh! The cowboy has some jokes!" I say turning to Daryl while pointing at Rick.

Rick chuckles a bit. I sigh and lean my head back against the headrest.

"So why'd girl like you join the military?" Daryl asks out of the blue.

"Wow…that's a good question, hmm…" I respond as I look up at the ceiling of the SUV. "Since high school, I considered joining the military. I wanted to join right after I graduated from high school, but my father explained to me that I should get my college education first; that way, I could also guarantee a different occupation after the military. I thank my father for that, may he rest in peace… I thought joining military would help me fulfill my purpose and serve to protect the people of this country. I was an only child so it was rough growing up the way I did…widowed father who had trouble making ends meet. I wanted to come back home after I served in the military to help my father out; I did up until his death when I was around 23. About five of the six years I spent in the military, I served in combat – the rest, I either served in the technological and medical field, and I was also in a coma after being shot in the line of duty," I say scoffing with a smile. "I don't know…most of why I chose to be in the military was because I wanted to protect people…the other reason, well, I like action and adventure."

I peer out the window and spot a walker near the edge of the woods.

"It seems that I got what I was lookin' for," I sarcastically say.

"That's deep," Daryl comments. "What was your rank?"

"I reached sergeant before I resigned," I reply while scratching my wrist.

"Do ya still have your badges?"

"Yeah, somewhere in my belongings back at the prison."

"You gotta show me when we get back," Daryl says in a bit of excitement. "Besides callin' you vampire, I can call you 'sarge' now."

I chuckle as I dig my fingers through my dark curls and rest my head on my hand.

"Anyway, Michonne," I say pulling the long sleeve of my dark green shirt down a bit. "How long have you been wielding that katana of yours? It's pretty badass."

Michonne lets out a bit of a chuckle.

"Been havin' this katana for many years," she responds as she stares out the window. "It's precious to me and has a lot of meaning."

She does not continue after that. I have come to notice that Michonne is not much of a talker and has a hard time opening up to people. She tends to work alone quietly and keeps much of her past a secret, but still fights for the survivors' defense as strongly as the other active defenders in the prison. I have a lot of respect for her, but I still want to get to know her more.

"You two have some badass signature weapons," I compliment Michonne and Daryl. "Michonne: katana. Daryl: crossbow. All Rick and I have are these guns."

"Mind you, my gun can do a lot, too," Rick interjects with a small smile.

"Let me see your gun," I say as I hold my hand out.

Rick reaches for his gun in his holster and hands it to me. I examine it closely, flipping it from side to side, feeling it sleek, metallic surface.

"A Colt Python," I exclaim, fascinated by the gun. "Also referred to as a 'combat magnum.' A double action handgun chambered for the .357 Magnum cartridge, built on the large I-frame. Pythons have a reputation for accuracy, smooth trigger pull, and a tight cylinder lock-up."

Rick turns to me, clearly impressed as I continue to examine the gun.

"Whoa, we're not takin' a test here," Daryl teases.

"That's what happens when you're a weapons specialist in the military," I reply with a smirk. "This one's a classic. I'm jealous, Rick," I say as I hand him the gun back with a small smile.

"Let me see yours," Rick says as he takes the gun and sticks it back into his holster.

I reach for my gun in its holster and hand it to him. He drives with his left hand and holds my gun in his right, examining it for a moment.

"CZ P-07 Duty," he begins. "Multi-purpose arm. Compact polymer frame houses 12 rounds of .40 S&W and has an integral accessory rail for attaching lights and lasers. An Omega trigger system operates in both double- and single-action, with a decocking lever that can be converted into a safety selector, depending on the operator's preference."

"Wow…" I say as I turn to Rick who turns his eyes back on the road. "I am impressed."

"I know my weapons, too," he smirks at me as he hands me my gun.

"I feel like this drive turned into some damn lecture on guns," Daryl jokes.

"Hey, when it comes to law enforcement individuals, we gotta know our weapons," I smile in defense. "_Especially_ our favorite ones."

Rick turns to me and nods.

"Bunch'a nerds…" Daryl mutters.

"All you know about your crossbow is to make sticks with pointy ends!" I remark at Daryl.

"Hey, it's a lot more than that!" he defends. "Guns gotta have to be reloaded and shit."

"Yes, but they have much of a faster reloading time compared to crossbows," I say fired up, turning in my seat to face him. "When you run out of ammo, you won't have time to find sticks, sit down and sharpen them! Get outta here with your arts and crafts crap."

"Oh, here we go again…" Michonne sighs as she rolls her eyes and looks out the window. "Rick, how _long_ is this drive?"

"We don't have long to get there," he replies with some laughter. "Another five or ten minutes and we should be there."

Daryl sticks his tongue out at me. I smile in humor as I turn around and face the front again. After a few seconds of silence, Daryl throws a small piece of paper at me. I rub my brows with a smirk.

"I'm going to hesitate the next time I have to go on an errand with you two," Michonne jokes.

"We like to keep things interestin', right Michelle?" Daryl claims.

Without turning to him, I hold my fist toward him and he bumps it with his. I rest my hand back on my thigh, gazing out the window again. Another moment of silence ensues. I peer down at the ground off the road and see a chipmunk scurry up a tree.

'Oh, look, Daryl's lunch…' I think to myself humorously.

The silence continues. I lean my head back on the head rest again, closing my eyes for a moment.

"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts…" Daryl begins to sing. "There they are all standing in a row…"

"Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head," I join in and sing.

"Oh God…" Michonne sighs heavily. "Rick, let me out…"

"Give them a twist a flick of the wrist, that's what the showman said!" I finish the verse, then Daryl and I begin to sing together, dancing a bit in our seats.

"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts

Every ball you throw will make me rich

There stands me wife, the idol of me life

Singin' roll a bowl a ball a penny a pitch

Singin' roll a bowl a ball a penny a pitch

Singin' roll a bowl a ball a penny a pitch

Roll a bowl a ball, roll a bowl a ball

Singin' roll a bowl a ball a penny a pitch"

Rick places his left palm into his face and begins to laugh. Michonne tries to keep a straight face, but can't help but let out a small smile and laugh. Daryl and I continue to sing and dance in our seats comically, filling in a bit of the instrumental of the song with our voices.

Daryl + Me: I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts Me: (they're lovely)

Daryl + Me: There they are all standing in a row Daryl: (one, two, three, four)

Daryl + Me: Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head! Me: (and bigger)

"Give them a twist a flick of the wrist, That's what the showman said!" Daryl and I finish the last lyrics together.

We all begin to laugh together and Daryl and I high five each other.

"We don't need radio," I exclaim. "Daryl and I do fantastic duets."

"Damn right!" Daryl agrees as he sits comfortably in his seat.

"You two are somethin' else…" Rick comments as he smiles and rubs his chin with his index finger.

The rest of us chuckle at his remark. After a few minutes of driving, we finally arrive near our destination.

"Well, he we are…" Rick says as he drives the SUV into a small town.

Rick parks the SUV in a nearby alleyway. He pulls the keys out of the ignition and we all exit the vehicle.

"Where should we head to first?" Daryl asks as he places his crossbow on his right shoulder.

"Let's head into this small plaza," Rick answers as he begins to walk toward the parking lot of the plaza.

We walk into the parking lot quietly, each of us glancing around our surroundings carefully.

"This place seems a bit deserted," Daryl comments. "Not a walker in sight."

"That makes me a bit nervous," I say as I take a hold of my handgun and have it ready. "Keep your eyes wide open."

They glance at me in a bit of wonder but listen.

"Why, what's wrong?" Rick asks.

"When I was living in that town you found me in," I begin to explain as we make our way to the entrance of a department store. "I made sure I did my best to get rid of walkers in the area. Either by killing them myself or by one of my traps…This place looks to me as if it's being inhabited…We need to be on the lookout for whoever is residing here – they may be hostiles."

The three of them nod in comprehension. We stand near the doorway of the department store, leaning against the walls; Daryl and I to the left of the doorway, Rick and Michonne on the other right. We have all of our weapons ready in hand. Rick peers in through the glass doors, sees that it's clear, and motions us to follow him in. He opens one of the glass doors and we move in after him. The department store has multiple sections, all organized in aisles. Paper and other materials are scattered about on the floor. The only light illuminating this place is the sunlight coming in through the windows, making it slightly dim.

"Alright," Rick says to us in a low voice. "We stay in a diamond formation and stay close together."

We all nod as we continue to make our way in; Rick is walking in the front, Daryl on the right side, Michonne on the left side, and I am in the back. We stand just about a foot or so away from one another as we walk along the aisles. I turn my gaze at the shelves that make up the aisles, and see that they are practically empty, other than strewn out paper , small boxes and dust. I step on a piece of an advertisement paper that reads _Life is good!_ with a group of people hanging out, smiling and laughing. Too bad that isn't the reality.

My attention is caught by something odd on the floor in an aisle. I see what appears to be light footprints made out in dirt. Without notifying the others, I make my way through the aisle and follow the footprints. They lead toward the back of the department store at the end of an aisle where I spot a door that's slightly open. With my gun still in my hand, I carefully and quietly pull the door open and see that it's clear. I walk inside and see that it's the small warehouse of the department store. I scan the enormous department shelves and see empty boxes scattered on top of them, along with some dust and ripped newspaper. I continue to slowly make my way to the end of the warehouse, watching a rat scurry across the floor some feet away. I'm surprised to spot a trail of blood on the floor. I walk over and examine it, and see that it's fresh blood. Keeping my gun ready in my hands, I follow the trail, turning left at the end of the aisle. The trail leads to a puddle of blood, clearly fresh, and it leads to the exit door. I stare the puddle of blood while crouching a bit.

'No doubt it's fresh blood,' I think to myself. 'I better warn the others…'

Just as I was about to get up, I feel something hit the back of my head hard. I collapse onto the floor face first, landing just a foot away from the puddle of blood, dropping my gun just a few inches away. I try to get up, but the last thing I feel is someone grab me before I black out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Rick continues to quietly walk past the aisles with Daryl and Michonne behind. Rick turns to Daryl to say something, but from the corner of his eye, he sees that I'm not in the back.

"Where's Michelle?" Rick asks glancing around then at Daryl and Michonne.

"She was just behind us a moment ago," Daryl responds in surprise.

"I didn't hear or see her wander off," Michonne responds, also surprised.

Rick quickly begins to walk back the way they entered, scanning every aisle. Daryl and Michonne do the same, scanning all around them in the department store. Daryl quietly runs ahead of Rick and looks down an aisle where he spots a door open at the end of the aisle. He whistles at Rick and Michonne and points at the door. Rick walks down the aisle toward the open door, his gun ready in his hands. He slowly walks through the doorway as he looks around to see if it's clear. Daryl and Michonne follow right after him as he walks down toward the back of the small warehouse. Rick notices a trail of blood on the floor and the three follow it, wielding their weapons ready. Rick is leading them around the corner, and is surprised when he spots the puddle of blood. They walk over to it, and Daryl crouches down to examine the puddle of blood.

"This is fresh blood," he states, looking up at Rick.

Rick notices a gun on the floor just a foot away from the puddle, almost under one of the warehouse shelves. He crouches down on one knee, picks it up, and instantly recognizes it.

"This is Michelle's gun," he states with a wave of worry and anger run through his body as he glances at the puddle of blood again. "Damn it," he mutters through his teeth.

He glances over at the slightly open door some feet in front of them that leads to the outside. Holding the gun he picked up in his left hand, he stands up and moves quickly to the door. He pushes it open and walks out into the alley with Daryl and Michonne right behind him. It's the alley where they had parked, so the SUV is at one end of it. Rick glances over to see if he spots me in anywhere. Daryl turns to the other direction on the left and sees me, unconscious, being carried into a grey van by two men.

"There she goes!" Daryl says pointing over in that direction.

Rick turns his head toward the other end of the alley where Daryl pointed and sees me unconscious me being carried into the van by two men. He immediately sprints toward their direction with Daryl and Michonne right behind him. One of the men with a dark green hoodie who's standing in the van looks up and sees them running toward the van, and his eyes widen.

"Drive! Drive!" he tells the driver.

Before the van moves, the man in the green hoodie kicks the other man standing outside the van in the chest, causing him to fall on his back. The green hooded man aims to shoot the other in the head, but because the van moves abruptly into a drive, he ends up shooting the man in the shoulder. The van's tires screech as it drives off quickly, the man inside closing the door. Rick, Daryl and Michonne just arrive near the man who's been shot and gaze after the van. Rick attempts to shoot at the van, but the van quickly turns at a corner, getting out of sight.

"Damn it!" Rick says out loud in anger.

Rick turns to the man on the ground, who's wincing in pain from the shot in his shoulder. He looks over at his leg and sees that blood is seeping through his ripped jeans.

"He's been bitten," Daryl says as he looks down at the man. "They left'im because he'll be turnin'. The guy tried to shoot'im but missed because of the van driving off."

Rick walks over to the man on the ground, who is terrified.

"Where are they taking her?!" Rick yells, pointing his gun at the man.

The man simply shakes his head and doesn't respond. This angers Rick, causing him to punch him the man in the face.

"Tell me where they're taking her!" Rick threatens by holding his Colt Python at the man's head. "Or we _will_ make the rest of your time a livin' hell before you turn!"

The man shakes his head again, blood dripping out of his mouth. Rick punches him again in the face, causing the man to splatter blood on to the pavement.

"I'll get'im to talk," Daryl says as he crouches down next to the man.

Daryl takes one of his arrows and stabs it into the man's thigh, causing the man to yelp in pain.

"Tell us where they're takin' her!" Daryl asks the man as he yanks him by the collar of his shirt.

"Please, stop!" the man cries.

Daryl pulls the arrow out of the man's thigh, causing blood to gush out through his light blue jeans. Daryl takes the arrow and lodges it into the man's side this time, and the man yelps out in pain again. Blood squirts out of the wound and begins to soak the side of the man's grey shirt. Rick then strikes a blow into the man's stomach, causing even more blood to gush out of the wound where the arrow is still lodged.

"Please, stop! Just stop!" the man pleads out in pain.

"_Where_ are they takin' her?" Daryl asks again as he yanks the man toward his face by the collar of his shirt. "We ain't gonna ask ya again…"

The man begins to wince more in pain but doesn't answer. Daryl forcefully yanks the arrow out from the man's side and brings it up to the man's face, the arrow dripping with blood.

"Keep this up and I'm gonna to gauge one of your eyes out," Daryl threatens.

The man whimpers in pain, still not saying a word.

"You're wastin' our time here!" Rick growls through his teeth.

Again, the man doesn't say anything.

"Gauge his damn eye out," Rick says in a serious tone.

Daryl holds his arm far out with the arrow in his hand. Just as he's about to stab it into the man's eye, the man yelps and squirms.

"They're taking her to a safe house!" the man finally cries out. "It's about 6 miles down the highway road…it's in the woods…to the left…The safe house…is on the right side of the road…" he says with blood seeping through his lips.

"How many of your buddies are there?" Rick asks, looking at him straight in the eyes.

"Ten…there are ten men…"

"How secure is it?" Rick asks.

"They all have…firearms…" the man answer, leaning his head back.

"What're they gonna do with our friend?" Daryl asks as he pulls on the man's collar again.

"Anything they want," the man replies with a bloody smirk and begins to chuckle.

Rick glares at the man, anger boiling up inside him as his jaw clenches. He pulls his Colt Python out and shoots the man in the head, splattering his brains out on the pavement. Rick gets up quickly, my gun still in his left hand, and begins to sprint to the other end of the alley toward the SUV with Daryl and Michonne right behind him. Rick reaches the driver door and unlocks all the doors with the remote as he places his own gun in its holster and hops into the SUV. He places my gun into the compartment between the seats, sticks the key into the ignition, and it roars into life as Daryl and Michonne quickly hop in. Rick hits the gas pedal, causing the tires of the SUV to screech, and drives down the alley to follow the path that the van took. Adrenaline runs through Rick's veins as he clenches the steering wheel, speeding down the street and turning a left onto the highway.

'Damn it…why did I let her outta my sight?!' Rick yells at himself in his head. "How are we on weapons?" he asks Daryl and Michonne.

"I'm good with arrows and a blade," Daryl says as he prepares his crossbow.

"I've got my katana ready and a handgun," Michonne replies, cocking the gun.

'We've also got three of Michelle's rifles in the back," Daryl adds as he reaches for them and places them on the seats in between him and Michonne.

Michonne and Daryl begin to make sure the rifles are loaded and ready. They cock them and place them across their laps. Rick continues to speed down the highway, remembering that the man told them 6 miles down the high road to the right of the road.

'We're comin', Michelle…' Rick thinks to himself.

I hear voices of men talking amongst themselves. It's pitch black and I feel a bit dizzy, my head hanging forward over my chest. I try to moves my hands and my feet, but feel that they're tied up and I'm sitting on a chair.

'What's…what's going on?' I think to myself, feeling dazed and slowly begin to lift my head.

"Looks like she's awake, guys!" I hear one of the men exclaim.

I hear footsteps walking toward me. A blindfold is then removed from my face. I squint upon seeing a light shining above me as if I'm going to be interrogated. I open one eye and glance around the room. There are four men in the room with me. The one who removed my blindfold stands in front of me and smiles. He's a tall, thick built Caucasian man wearing a black shirt and dark jeans. His dirty blonde hair lays messy on top of his head, covering parts of his forehead.

"Well, hello there," he says gazing at me with his dark green eyes. "Welcome to my sanctuary. I'm Jake, the leader of this group."

I scan the room again and see the other three men gazing at me like hungry dogs. The room is a small one, with nothing else but the chair I'm sitting on, a table, and the men inside.

"My boys brought me a gift…" Jake says as he leans down and caresses my face with his left hand. "And what a precious gift you are."

I spit in his face. He slowly stands upright with his eyes closed and wipes his face. His smile quickly forms into a scowl, and he punches me in the face, jerking me to the right. I feel blood drip out of my mouth. Jake grabs me forcefully by the chin and makes me look him in the eyes.

"Such a naughty girl…" he says. "Where are you manners?"

I glare straight into his dark green eyes.

"You're not going to have a good time with me if you don't change that attitude of yours," he continues.

"Fuck you," I hiss at him.

He strikes me in the face again and then in my stomach, near my still healing wound. I wince from the pain as I lean my head forward. Jake grabs my hair from the back of my head and jerks me back, hurting my neck a bit.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to beat those bad manners out of you," Jake exclaims with a smirk and punches hard in the stomach again. "Too bad I won't be able to enjoy you without your pretty face being bruised."

I lift my head up at him slowly, my dark curls moving back out of my face.

"Why don't you…go fuck yourself?" I say through hard breaths and spit my blood into his face.

Jake turns away while growling in anger. He turns to me with a glare.

"Boys…it's time to leave me alone with this rude girl…" he orders the men.

The men nod and make their way out of the door, closing it behind them. Jake begins to slowly circle around me. I hang my head a bit forward, my hair hiding my face a bit as I breathe hard.

"I'm going to teach you some manners…right here and now," Jake says in a cynical tone. "I like to tame my victims first if they don't respect me."

"You can take those manners…and stick them up your ass…" I say in a tired tone. "You fucking prick."

I take a blow to the face again, and then to my stomach, twice. Leaning forward, I cough and begin to gasp for air.

"Apologize to me…" Jake demands.

"I'm sorry…" I mutter and look up at him with a smirk. "…that you're a piece of shit."

Jake growls and takes out a blade. He cuts my feet loose, pulls me out of the chair and throws me to the ground, my hands still tied behind my back. I roll twice on to my side, wincing from the pain of my stitched wound and stomach. I attempt to use my knees to push myself up, but Jake kicks me in the stomach, right over my stitched wound. I feel the air exit out of my lungs, and I begin to cough again, blood dripping out of my mouth. Jake grabs me by the back of my shirt with both of his hands and throws me up against the wall. I land on my side and wince in more pain.

"You're gonna be a hard one to break, aren't you?" Jake states as he walks closer and kicks me once again in the stomach.

I roll on to my back, heaving for air. Jake smirks at the sight of me in pain. I squint from the pain and glance at his belt; I see the blade inside a holster above his crotch.

'I have to get closer to grab it…' I think to myself as I roll onto my side, gritting my teeth in pain. 'I've got it…'

Jake plunges a kick to my left side again. I can almost feel one of my ribs shatter. I begin to cough blood out on the blood.

"Okay…I've had enough…" I mutter in between gasps. "Do what you want with me…I'm done…"

Jake smirks at the sound of my words. He yanks me by the collar of my shirt and brings my face closer to his.

"I knew you'd come around…" he whispers. "I'm going to have fun with you…"

He grabs my hair hard and lifts my head up to the ceiling, exposing my neck. He leans into my neck and begins to kiss it roughly. After some kisses, I feel him roughly bite my neck as he sucks on my skin. I wince from the pain and grit my teeth as he leaves a dark red hickey on my neck.

"Just get it over with…" I mutter. "Take me from behind if you want…I don't care…"

"That's not a bad idea, actually…" he says with a devilish smirk.

He then forcefully grabs me by the arm and leads me toward the table on the other side of the room. He makes me stand in front of him with the edge of the table touching the front of my thighs. He pulls me closer to him, my back being pulled into him with my butt grinded against his crotch, my hands still tied behind me. Pulling me by my hair, he lifts my head up again and leans his face next to mine.

"I'm going to enjoy this very much…" he whispers into my ear.

I wince from him pulling my hair hard and the pain through beat up body. As he is shifts my holster away from the front of my crotch and begins to pull my zipper down, I slowly lean my head forward. He continues to slowly pull my dark jeans down as he breathes fast in excitement. Suddenly, gunshots are heard from somewhere outside. Jake stops in surprise at the sound. I take this chance to quickly pull the blade out of the holster in front of his crotch and hit him in the face with the back of my head. He steps back from the hit, covering his now bleeding nose. I step back away from him and quickly cut through the rope wrapped around my wrists with the blade.

"You broke my nose, you stupid bitch!" Jake roars out in anger.

I lean over the table, trying to keep myself standing as I pull my jeans up. Before I can pull the of my jeans zipper back up, Jake grabs me by the back of the shirt and throws me across the floor. I'm still holding on tightly to the blade, concealing it from Jake. I get on my feet but lean forward, placing my left hand over my left side that's aching in pain. Jake goes in for a kick to my face, but I block it with my arms, stand upright and punch him hard in the face. I think grab his head by his hair, and knee him in the face. He jerks back a few feet, but doesn't fall. I struggle to stand and drop to one knee, wrapping my arm around my aching sides. Jake takes this chance to tackle me to the floor, making me drop the blade a few feet away. He's on top of me with one of his knees next to both of my sides and begins to punch me repeatedly hard in the ribs. I moan out in pain as I feel some ribs shatter inside me. He goes to punch me in the face, but I manage to block it and swing my elbow into his face, causing him to fall over off of me. I roll on my side and slowly begin to crawl toward the blade a few feet away. Jake doesn't notice that I reach for it, and throws himself on top of me again from behind. I try to get away but he pulls me by my jeans, practically pulling them down past my hips a bit. I then turn by torso and elbow him hard in the face again, causing more blood to gush out of his now broken nose and from his mouth. This causes him to fall back off of me again, and I roll on my back to face him. He grunts in anger and lunges at me. I take this chance to drive the blade through his forehead, piercing his skull. His body freezes and collapses on top of me, adding more pressure to my now fractured ribs. I cry out in pain as I Jake's body crushes my aching body. Bearing all of the pain, I manage to push his heavy, limp body off of me, and it lands next to me on the floor to my right. I bite my lips and grit my teeth in pain as I feel tears roll down my face as I turn to the wall on my left. Suddenly, I hear the door burst open. Footsteps quickly approach me from behind and someone kneels next to me and grabs my arms.

"No, go away!" I cry out in pain and fear as tears roll down my face as I close my eyes and shield myself with my arms.

"Michelle! It's me!" I hear a familiar voice say to me. "It's me, Rick!"

I open my eyes and gaze into his worried, bright blue ones. I suddenly feel a wave of relief through my body, and dig my face into his chest, crying a bit into his dark blue shirt.

"It's all right, I'm here…" Rick comforts me as he holds me in his arms.

He looks over at Jake's body and sees his bloody face and the blade driven into his skull. Turning his attention back to me, he sees my unbuttoned and unzipped jeans pulled a bit down under my hips. He cups my face into his hand and looks at the bruises on my cheeks and forehead, the blood by my mouth, and even the dark red hickey on my neck. Fear, anger, and sadness is all that runs through Rick's mind as he thinks what I've gone through as he pulls me into his chest again and caresses my hair.

"You're safe now…I'm here…" he whispers into my ear with a tremble in his voice.

"Rick!" Daryl calls out from the doorway. "Time to go! We still got some guys tryin' to find us!"

Rick glances at him with a nod. Michonne walks into the room toward Rick and me.

"Help me get her up," Rick tells her as he stands up, still holding me up.

Michonne nods and places her katana in its case and quickly crouches down next to me. Rick places my right arm over his shoulder while Michonne places my left arm over her shoulder and carefully lift me up to my feet. I wince in pain as I walk forward with them to the doorway.

"What's the situation?" Rick asks Daryl as we make our way down the hallway.

"We've killed seven out of the ten guys here," he replies as he walks in front of us as he holds his crossbow up. "Including the dead guy in the room."

"So we've got three more to worry about," Michonne states.

"What's Michelle's condition?" Daryl asks as he looks left and right at the end of the hallway then signaling us to follow.

"Not good," Rick answers as he glances at me with a worried expression.

"I'm hangin' in there…" I manage to say with a weak voice and small smile.

We reach the living room of what appears to be a large vacation house. As we are walking toward the doorway out of the house, one of the men enters, about to point his gun at us. Daryl quickly reacts and shoots an arrow through his skull, and the man's lifeless body collapses on the floor. Daryl steps over the body and yanks the arrow out and reloads it into the crossbow.

"We're gonna make a run for it to the SUV," Daryl exclaims as he checks if it's clear to go outside form the doorway.

"I'll cover us with Daryl," Michonne says as she carefully lets go of me and pulls out her gun. "You got her, Rick?"

"Yeah," Rick nods as he places his gun into his holster and wraps his left arm around my waist and holds my arm over his shoulder with his right hand. "We're ready."

"Let's go!"

Daryl walks out first with Michonne out into the front porch. They look around and see no one, so they signal for Rick to come out. We walk down the wooden porch steps and begin to walk into the woods.

"The SUV is in parked on the side of the road," Rick whispers to me. "Think you can make it?"

"Yeah, I can walk a bit," I answer as I grit my teeth in pain.

A bullet brushes past Michonne and hits a tree, causing her to crouch down. Daryl and Michonne turn their attention to the man who shot the bullet. Both aim at him. Michonne fires her gun, but the man is able to avert the bullet. Daryl takes this chance to shoot his crossbow and hits the man in the chest, causing him to collapse to the ground.

"He ain't dead," Daryl says as he runs over to the body to retrieve the arrow and kill the man.

Michonne covers him with her gun. Meanwhile, Rick and I make our way to the SUV.

"We're almost there," Rick says as we step over some twigs.

I turn my gaze toward my left. One of the men comes out from behind a tree some 15 feet away and aims his gun at Rick. Panic stricken, I react immediately.

"Rick!" I yell as I pull away from his grasp, push him forward with the force I have left in me, and step forward to shield him.

Rick trips over a large rock hidden under some leaves and falls on his back. He turns his gaze at me as he sees the man aiming his gun. Everything occurs in slow motion to Rick. He watches with wide eyes as the bullet pierces through my back, causing a bit of my blood to spray on to his face and shirt. My body begins to fall back but Rick quickly lunges forward to catch me.

"Nooo!" Rick yells out in despair.

He takes his Colt Python out from his holster with his left hand and shoots the man who shot me straight in the head. The man collapses dead onto the leafy ground. Daryl and Michonne dart their heads in our direction and immediately sprint toward me and Rick. I begin to cough up some blood as Rick holds me in my arms after he places his gun in its holster. He examines the bullet wound and sees that it pierced into my chest, right about where my heart is.

"Shit…" Daryl says as he sees what's happened to me and glances over at the dead man who shot me. "That was the tenth guy…"

"Let's get her back to the prison," Rick says as he tosses the keys to the SUV to Daryl and places my right arm over his shoulder carefully. "We need to get her to Hershel!"

Michonne takes my other arm and carries me with Rick. Daryl runs to the SUV and quickly starts the engine. Rick opens one of the back seat doors and climbs in. He pulls me in carefully while Michonne lifts my legs up and carefully pushes me onto the backseat and closes the door. Rick keeps me sitting up by holding me in his arms. Michonne quickly gets in the front seat, closes the door, and Daryl steps hard on the gas. Rick reaches for a towel in the back of the SUV and places it over my bullet wound, applying slight pressure to it. He notices that I'm looking as if I'm going to pass out.

"Stay with me, Michelle," he firmly says as he shakes me a bit.

"It's funny…" I say in a low voice. "I was the one…who said to be careful about hostiles…"

I swallow a bit of my blood. Rick continues to panic and worry.

"And now look at me," I continue to say in a weak voice. "I'm the one who got fucked up…"

I look up at Rick with a bloody smile. Rick stares at me with a stern gaze.

"Don't look at me like that…" I say with a serious expression as I look into his eyes. "You know I'd do it…"

"Damn it, Michelle! Why?" Rick mutters as he grits his teeth.

"I protect those who I care about…" I say as I clench my jaw in pain.

"You didn't have to take it for me…" Rick mutters in anger.

"I'd also promised Carl a favor…"

Rick looks at me in confusion.

"I promised him I'd look after you…" I say as I wince a bit.

Rick looks away, clenching his jaw.

"And I did…I kept my word…I made sure I did this time…"

He looks back at me, not knowing what I mean by _this time_.

"Remember I'd tell you about my daughter, Elena?" I ask him.

He nods.

"Well, I guess now would be the right time to tell you…I may not make it…"

"Don't you say that…" Rick firmly says while shaking his head.

"Her name was Elena…" I begin to say in between gasps. "I had was at work at a counseling center…I had been sitting at my desk when I heard people screaming in terror outside…I looked out the window and saw people running…People were _eating _other people…I didn't know what was going on…My cell phone rang…I answer it, and it's Elena's nanny…"

Rick stares at me and listens, still adding pressure to my wound.

"She had called me in a panic, saying that someone….had gotten into my house…I told her to get Elena and go to a safe room and stay inside until I get there…But then…I heard her screaming over the phone…I also heard Elena screaming…A shock of fear struck me at the sound of my daughter screaming…I wake up from hearing it in my dreams at times…I got my gun from my desk and went home as fast as I could…I shot a few of those walkers on my way there…I finally reached my home…the front door was forced open…I walk in with my gun ready in my hands…I glance around to see if it was clear…"

At this point, Michonne and Daryl were also listening closely.

"I found my daughter's nanny lying dead on the floor of the kitchen…I immediately feared the worst for Elena…I quickly made my way to one of the bedrooms...I heard noise coming from inside my daughter's room…I went to check it out…The door was slightly open…the knob was broken…holding my gun out in front of me, I pushed the door open…what I saw was burned in my mind…I saw my daughter…Elena...lying half-naked on the carpet floor…"

My eyes begin to tear up as I clench my fists, looking up at the ceiling of the car.

"The man who had broken into my home…had been bitten…But before he had turned, he raped my little girl…and shot her…and was on top of her, eating away at her arm…I was enraged…I kicked the walker off my daughter and shot it in the head…I stood over my daughter's half-naked corpse…I collapsed onto my knees and began to sob…holding my daughter's body in my arms…As I was hugging her, I heard her breathe…having a moment of happiness, I pulled away and looked at her face…my grief was stronger…I gazed into her dead, yellow eyes…her pale skin…looked _nothing_ like my beautiful Elena…She slowly tried to come toward me to bite…snarling…and that's when I knew she wasn't my daughter anymore…I couldn't stand seeing her like that, so I shot her..._it_…in the head…I laid there on the floor, sobbing…before I came back to my senses and knew I had to leave…I placed one of Elena's favorite blankets over her body…over _it_…and I forced myself to leave…I gathered some of my belongings…clothing, food, water…loaded them into my car…And I left…never to return to that place again…"

There's absolute silence in the car. Daryl is trying his best to keep driving as fast as possible, trying to ignore the tears in his eyes. Michonne stares down in front of her, tears rolling down her face. Rick stares at me with grief; tears start to roll down his face as he clenches his jaw.

"Now you know why I don't share that story with people…" I say as I gaze up at Rick. "I haven't shared it with anyone since it happened…"

I feel more tears rolling down my face as I look up at the ceiling of the car again. Suddenly, I begin to see Rick blurring up in my vision. My eyes start to blink quickly before they close.

"Michelle!" Rick calls out. "Stay with me!"

But I don't respond. Rick's voice is the last thing I hear before I completely black out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I open my eyes and find myself lying on a dark red sofa. Lifting myself up to sit, I glance around and see that I'm in a living room, a familiar one – it's my old one. I look myself over and see that my clothing isn't stained with blood and I don't have any wounds of any kind. Confused, I gaze around and see that everything is neatly put; nothing is broken, worn out, no dust…it looks just like it had been before everything went to hell. I suddenly hear laughter of a little girl and man coming from outside.

'Those laughs…' I think to myself. 'I know them…'

I get up and make my way to the sliding glass door and walk out to the back porch. I squint and cover my face with my right hand from the bright glow of the outside as I walk down the porch steps. Glancing over to the backyard, I see two figures sitting on the swing set, their backs faces me. The man is sitting on the first swing and the little girl is sitting on the right one, leaving an empty one in between them. They continue to sit on the swings, talking amongst themselves. I slowly begin to walk toward them through the rich, green grass that dances in the light breeze, keeping my eyes on them. As I approach closer, they both turn their heads toward me.

"Hi mommy!" the little girl says with an excited voice.

"Elena…" I whisper in disbelief. "John…"

"Come sit with us," John says with a smile as he pats the swing in the middle.

I am astonished, still trying to process what's going on. I make my way in front of the swing in between them and take a seat. My eyes gaze at Elena: her semi long, dark curls reach past the collar of her rose red dress. My eyes then turn to John: his blonde hair is spiked at the top and the collar of his buttoned white dress shirt flaps slowly with the wind.

"We were expecting you," John says with a warm smile.

"Am I…dead?" I ask in confusion.

John chuckles.

"Still the same Michelle," he says. "Well…you're here to make a choice."

I gaze into his bright green eyes in confusion.

"You can either stay or leave. It's all up to you."

"Daddy and I had a long talk," Elena interjects. "We'll respect your choice no matter what, mommy."

"A long talk?" I ask turning my head to Elena.

"You can stay or you can return," John explains. "Elena and I discussed that you can choose yourself whatever you wish to do…You can stay with us…or you can go back…But we know that you've found a new family."

I stare down at the ground in contemplation. I then remember everyone back at the prison: Daryl, Michonne, Carl, Judith…Rick.

"So…I can stay here…not worry about any walkers, hostiles…not worry about safety, food, water…and be with you guys…" I say. "But you're right… I _have_ found a new family… I'd hate to leave them…"

"They need you, Michelle," John states. "The kids at the prison need you, the adults need you…_Rick_ needs you."

I glance at him in surprise. John smiles and knows what I'm thinking.

"It's all right, I know," he says. "I'm not angered or offended if you've developed feelings for him; not at all. I mean, I'm not in your life anymore, so you're free to do what you want. He may not say it, but Rick _does_ need you. Not only him, but everyone at the prison – you play an important role in their lives in a world that now seems hopeless. And Elena and I know that's what you do. You instill hope in people – _that's_ why Elena and I want you to go back. You have a purpose there…to start a new chapter."

I continue to gaze down at the ground, still thinking deeply. I suddenly feel Elena grab my hand and I turn to her. She gazes at me with her bright green eyes and smiles.

"We just want you to be happy with them," she says.

"It's not your time to go," John adds. "Like I said: you have a purpose there. And it's best you go back."

My long dark curls dance on my shoulders with the sudden light breeze.

"If I choose to leave…to _live_…" I begin to say, my gaze still glued to the ground. "…will you both be upset with me?"

"Of course not, silly!" Elena exclaims with a smile. "We really mean what we're saying, mommy."

"Elena speaks for me," John says with a smile. "We just want you to be happy."

I begin to picture everyone's smiling faces from the prison in my head. I recall the crossbow competitions Daryl and I have for the kids; I remember joking around with Daryl, Hershel, Glen, Maggie; I remember playing tag with Carl and the rest of the children; I remember holding little Judith in my arms…and I remember Rick and I sitting outside late at night, talking under the starry sky and when Daryl and I made him smile and laugh. All of that is just beginning…and I don't want it to end just yet.

"I've decided…" I say out loud before looking up.

John and Elena stare at me as I stand up on my feet. I take a few steps forward and turn to face them. They watch me, waiting for me to say something.

"I'm going back," I finally say with a smile. "It's not my time yet…my time with my new family back at the prison is just beginning."

John and Elena gaze at me with bright warm smiles. Elena suddenly jumps off the swing and runs to me, embracing me in a hug.

"I'm glad you're doing what makes you happy, mommy…" she says.

John stands up and walks over. Elena backs away to give me and her father some room. I look up at John and gaze into his bright green eyes, his blonde hair flickering in the light breeze.

"Go back and don't be sad about us," John says. "Now you know that Elena and I are fine and happy…and it comforts us that you're now at peace and happy as well."

My eyes begin to tear up as I smile at him and place my hand on his cheek.

"You seem to have a thing for men in the law enforcement," John jokes, referring to Rick.

I look down and laugh at his remark and look back up at his handsome, smiling face.

"You'll always be in my heart…" I say to him. "Siempre…"

He leans closer and kisses me on the forehead. Suddenly, a bright light shines from behind me. I turn and see that a wall of bright white light and thin mist has appeared just some ten feet away from us.

"That's your cue," John states.

I move forward and we take each other in a tight embrace.

"Go kick some ass…" he whispers to me, causing me to laugh a bit.

We let go and I kneel down in front of Elena.

"I'm scared I won't see you again…" I say to her.

"Don't be scared, mommy," Elena reassures me.

Elena jumps forward and embraces me.

"I'll always be in your heart…" she whispers into my ear. "Siempre…"

I wrap my arms around her tightly.

"Siempre…" I whisper back.

After a few seconds, Elena and I let go of one another. John puts his hand over Elena's shoulder and pulls her next to him. I take a few steps backward toward the bright wall of light as I stare at them with a warm smile, both of them returning it.

"Thank you…" I say to them with a tear rolling down my face as I smile.

After taking one last look at them, I turn forward and am consumed in the bright wall of light.

I slowly begin to open my eyes. My vision is blurred a bit, so I blink slowly a few more times until it clears up. The bottom of the top bunk bed is what I see, and I figure out that I'm lying on my bed in my cell. I attempt to move a bit, but a sudden wave of pain and soreness runs through my body, causing me to groan a bit.

"Don't try to move so much," I hear a familiar voice say.

I slowly turn my gaze to my right and see Hershel sitting next to the bed on a chair. He gazes down at me with a smile.

"Glad to see you're still alive," he jokes. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if Rick comes in here and finishes the job…You got him really upset."

A smile cracks from my mouth at his words as I look back up at the bottom of the top bunk.

"How long have I been out?" I ask as I manage to feel my torso wrapped in medical tape underneath the oversized, red, sleeveless shirt I'm wearing. I'm only wearing my underwear but am covered with my blanket.

"About two days or so."

"Damn…" I say in surprise. "That long and Rick _still_ hasn't killed me?"

Hershel chuckles a bit at my remark. I reach to my face and feel a bandage above my eyebrow and a small cloth taped over my cheek. My hand reaches down to my neck, and I feel a cloth patched over where the dark red hickey is that I remember Jake gave me.

"You had lost quite a lot of blood," Hershel explains. "It's a miracle you even survived."

"Let's just say I'm lucky…" I say wincing a bit from pain.

"The stab wound you had before opened up a bit, so I had to fix it up, along with your fractured ribs and bruised up face," Hershel exclaims. "I _guess_ you can consider that lucky…"

I laugh a bit but am forced to stop because of the pain coming from my sides. Hershel stares at me with a serious gaze, but I avoid it by looking back up at the bottom of the top bunk. I can sense what he's thinking.

"Rick told me how you ended up like this…" Hershel says, breaking the silence. "He told me how he found you in that room…"

I know that he's referring to my jeans being pulled down and unzipped along with the hickey. A shiver rolls down my spine as I recall how Jake grinded up behind me and pulled on my jeans. I lay there and don't say anything.

"I won't ask you about what happened in that room," Hershel continues. "But Rick _will_…He's been worried sick about you. I had not seen him in so much despair since Lori died…In fact, it was almost as if he was reliving it."

I continue to stare upward, feeling bad about what Hershel is telling me.

"You're a strong woman," Hershel continues. "And I can tell something between you and Rick is developing."

I turn my head to him with a surprised gaze. He gives me a small smile.

"He sees somethin' in you," he says in a lower voice as he leans toward me. "And you see somethin' in him."

"Even if that's true…" I say in a bit of denial. "I wouldn't push it too quickly…I respect him and I respect the fact that he recently lost his wife… I can't just barge into his family with Carl and Judith…It would be disrespectful."

"I understand that…and I respect you even more for saying that. But Rick has gone through rough times in his previous relationship, and he wouldn't want to go through that again with you…I'm not forcing you to start something with Rick right away or at all…but I'm sayin' that you can be what Rick needs in his life right now. You have a positive influence on him."

I turn my head to face him and gaze into his eyes. He gives me a small smile and I can tell he wants me to think about what he's just said. Suddenly, someone appears at the doorway of the cell. Hershel and I turn and see that it's Rick, gazing at me with a serious look on his face. Hershel sees that it's his signal to leave, so he stands up and heads for the doorway.

"Try to be easy on her," Hershel pleads in a whisper as he stops next to Rick. "She's already gone through so much."

Rick doesn't look at him and just gazes down at the floor. Hershel knows Rick won't make any promises and leaves. Rick then walks into the cell and pulls the curtain down that's nailed on the left side of the entrance, covering the doorway down to the floor. The curtain isn't too thick, so a bit of light comes through to light up the cell. I turn my gaze to the wall next to me on my left. Rick slowly walks over to the chair next to my bed and takes a seat. I feel his stare on me but I continue to ignore it. He sits there in silence.

"How are you feelin'?" he finally asks.

"Could be better…" I answer blankly, still looking at the wall.

There's another moment of silence between us.

"I wanna thank you…" Rick says. "You took a bullet for me…we've only known each other for about a month, but you still took it…why?"

I turn my head and face him. He gazes at me with those blue eyes of his.

"I did it because that's what I do," I answer firmly. "I protect people, especially those who I care about. I would've done it for Daryl, for Michonne…for anyone in this prison…You guys are my new family."

Rick looks down at the floor.

"How did you end up being kidnapped?" he asks. "I thought we made it clear that we wouldn't split up."

I can hear the bit of anger in his stern voice. I look back upward and begin to recall what had happened.

"I followed some footprints that led to the warehouse of that department store," I answer. "I remember being knocked out when I walked in there, and then I woke up in that room with those men…"

Upon recalling my actions, I feel stupidity run through my mind. I knew the worst thing to do was separate from the group, but my stubbornness got the best of me. Rick rests his elbows on his thighs while leaning forward, looking down at the floor.

"That man…" he begins with a low voice. "…the one you killed in that room…did he…"

I continue to stare at the wall, recalling the disturbing feeling I felt with my experience with Jake. I bite my tongue, not wanting to explain, but I know he won't leave me until he knows what happened.

"He beat me…" I finally say. "He gave me a damn hickey…He took me to the table… unzipped my jeans and tried to pull them down…I ended up taking the blade from his holster and that's how I killed him."

Rick looks at me in desperation.

"Did he or did he not rape you?" he asks sternly.

"No, he didn't…" I answer not looking at him.

"Michelle, look at me…" he says moving forward closer to me. "I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me."

I turn my head toward him and gaze into his eyes. I can see the desperation and anxiety in them and feel so bad for making him feel the way he's feeling.

"Rick…" I say placing my hand on his shoulder. "He did _not_ rape me..."

Rick continues to gaze at me before nodding and a sense of relief runs through him.

"I'm so sorry…" I say. "I'm sorry for angering you and having you go through all this worry…I made a stupid mistake and paid the price for it…But thank you…Thank you for coming to rescue me…"

He looks at me as I give him a smile.

"Just promise that you'll never do something like that again," he states.

"I can't guarantee my own safety, but I can promise that I can check my stupidity," I say jokingly.

He nods and leans against the back of the chair, turning his gaze at the floor. I look back up to the bottom of the top bunk and sigh.

"Rick…" I say after a moment of silence.

"Hm?" he responds looking at me.

"Am I…wearing Daryl's shirt?" I ask in confusion.

Rick stares at me for a moment and can't help but let out a soft chuckle.

"Yes, you are," he answers. "He insisted on letting you wear it…he calls it his lucky shirt. He said you could wear it to help you get through."

"That Daryl…" I say with a small laugh. "How is everyone doing?"

"Everyone's doing their usual duties…they're all worried about you."

"Ah, yes, of course…Well, at least they'll know I'm awake now."

"Let's hope Daryl doesn't come in and pounce you," Rick jokes.

"I was actually afraid _you _would do that."

Rick laughs a bit and looks at the floor with a smile. I stare at him for a second. I've come to notice that it's rare that Rick smiles and laughs like this. I'm happy that he is, though.

"It sucks that I was nearly recovering from my stab wound from a month ago," I say as I look back up. "And now had _this _happen to me…I might have a habit of getting' my ass whooped…"

I laugh and Rick just smiles.

"Oh, I brought you this…" Rick says as he reaches behind him in his belt.

I look and see that he's holding my favorite gun.

"My baby!" I say as I take it into my hand.

"I wanted to give it to when you finally woke up," Rick explains. "I wanted to make sure it got back to you."

"Thank you, Rick," I say giving him a smile of appreciation.

He nods. There's another brief moment of silence between us.

"Before you fainted in the SUV…" Rick begins to say. "You explained what happened to your daughter, Elena…"

Rick rubs his chin a bit while looking down at the floor.

"I'm sorry to hear what happened to her…" Rick continues. "No child should ever have to die like that…it really does amaze me that you still keep on going."

I then recall my near death experience with John and Elena.

"Grab my backpack," I tell Rick as I point to the backpack that's under my bed.

He grabs it and hands it to me. I open it and search inside of it, pulling my wallet out. Rick watches me in curiosity, wondering what I'm doing. I place the backpack on the floor and open my wallet. Inside, I see one of Elena's school pictures and another family picture.

"This was her," I say as I hand the small photo of Elena to Rick.

Rick takes it and gazes at it. He looks at her semi-long, dark curls and her bright, smiling face.

"She looks a lot like you," he says with a smile.

"That photo was taken a few weeks before she died," I say. "I remember her being excited for that picture day at school. She was so excited that she spilled her cereal on her pajamas that morning," I say with a small laugh.

I then take the small family photo out of my wallet and hand it to Rick.

"That's your husband?" Rick asks as he looks at the photo.

"Yup…John Foster. Elena got her bright green eyes from him," I say with a smile. "But everything else she got from me. Personality, looks…I'd tease John about it and say that the only interesting thing she got from him was his bright green eyes."

"You had a beautiful family," Rick says to me with a smile as he hands me the pictures back.

"And now I'm part of a new one," I say, gazing into his blue eyes.

"Yes…yes you are," he says with a smile.

I place the pictures back into my wallet and place it on my bed next to me. Rick and I then stare at one another. There's silence between us, but we can express ourselves just by looking into each other's eyes.

"Michelle!" we hear someone yell from outside of the cell.

Rick and I turn to the doorway in surprise and see Daryl fling the curtain open and lunge inside.

"Hershel told us you're finally awake," he says in excitement. "See, Rick? I told ya my lucky shirt would help," he says as he pats Rick on the back. "I ran here from outside and yelled out to all the kids that you've woken up."

"You what?" I ask him in confusion.

Suddenly, we hear voices and footsteps come from outside my cell. The curtain flings open and the kids walk in and are happy to see me: Luke, Molly, Lizzie and Mika surround my bed.

"Michelle! We're so happy you're okay!" Mika exclaims with a smile.

"Yeah, we were worried!" her sister Lizzie adds.

"Did you kick the guy's ass who beat you up?" Luke asks.

"Hey, watch the language, young man," I say while pointing my finger at him and smile. "And of course I did."

"Yes!" Luke says as he balls his fist up.

"Can you tell us the story?" Mika asks.

"Yeah, tell us the story!" Lizzie pleads.

"Alright, kids," Rick says as he stands up, knowing I won't want to tell them what happened. "Michelle needs her rest."

"Yeah, cm'on, guys," Daryl says as he begins to help Rick lead them out of my cell. "The more rest Michelle gets, the sooner she can get better to play with you guys again."

"Get some rest, Michelle!" the kids call out before leaving the cell.

Daryl quickly turns back to me at the doorway.

"Better rest up so we can get back to our competitions!" he says as he points a finger at me.

I laugh and he walks out of the cell. Rick turns to me before exiting.

"Thank you," I whisper loud enough to hear me.

He smiles and nods before finally flinging the curtain out of his way and exiting the cell. I turn my gaze upward and sigh.

'My new family…' I think as I smile to myself.

After a few seconds, I decide to close my eyes and drift into a nap.

I'm woken up to the sound of clinking in my cell. I squint to see what's going on and see Maggie preparing some tea in a tea cup. Her sister Beth is standing with Judith in her arms. She turns to me and sees that I'm awake.

"Sorry to wake you from your nap," Beth says as she takes a seat on my bed next to me, sitting Judith on her lap. "My father wanted us to give you some medication along with some tea to help you feel better."

"No need to apologize," I say as I try to stretch but wince from the pain from my sides.

"How are you doin'?" Maggie turns to me. "It's about time you wake up, missy."

"Not too good, but it could be worse," I respond before yawning. "How's little Judith doing?" I say as I glance at Judith and take her little hand in mine.

"Just fine," Beth answers smiling down at Judith. "Just finished a bottle of her formula."

"That's a good girl," I say as I play with Judith's hand, causing her to smile a bit.

"We heard what you did for Rick…" Beth says as she glances at me.

"Seems like that has gone around well," I say with a small smile.

"It was a brave thing…" Beth continues. "And we all appreciate you saving Rick and what you've done for this group."

"I appreciate everyone's concern and help," I say. "But my duty as part of this group is to look after everyone…and protecting everyone is exactly what I'm going to do."

"Thank you," Beth says with a smile.

"Here's your tea," Maggie says as she kneels down next to my bed. "My father made it and mixed some medicine in it."

I attempt to sit up but pain brings me back down, causing me to wince.

"Don't try to sit up," Maggie says as she places a hand on my chest. "I'll use a spoon to pour the tea into your mouth."

Maggie takes some of the warm tea in the spoon and holds a napkin under it to catch any spills. I open my mouth and Maggie carefully pours the large spoonful of tea into my mouth. I cringe a bit from the bitter taste, to which Maggie smiles a bit.

"The medication made the tea bitter," she explains as she goes for another spoonful of tea. "The tea is actually pretty sweet."

"Did Hershel purposefully put a lot of medication in it as punishment for me?" I joke.

Maggie laughs as she pours another large spoonful of tea into my mouth.

"Has anything interesting happened?" I ask after swallowing the mouthful of tea. "How's Glen doing?"

"Glen is fine," Maggie answers as she goes and pours another spoonful of tea into my mouth. "Everything is pretty calm for the most part…just you that we're all worried about."

I swallow the spoonful of the bitter tea.

"My father will be coming in later in the evening to check up on you before you fall asleep," Maggie says as she gets another spoonful. "He wants to check your condition to make sure you'll be fine to sleep."

"I'm sure I will be," I say before Maggie pours some more tea in my mouth. "Overall, how are you ladies doin'?"

"Same as always," Beth replies with a smile and shrug. "Have little Judith here to keep me entertained while she plays with her cups back in our cell."

"I love watching her play with those damn red cups," I say with a smile as I look at Judith. "I can't wait to be able to move again to play with her some more."

"She misses you," Beth says as she smiles at me.

"Awwww," I say as I tickle Judith's foot.

"Alright, he goes the last of the tea," Maggie says with a smile.

I open my mouth and she pours the large spoonful of bitter tea. I cringe and stick my tongue out a bit from the bitter flavor. Maggie and Beth laugh.

"And now time for some food," Maggie says as she pulls out a clear bottle filled with what appears to be milk.

"That's food?" I ask with a smile.

"You can't be eating when you can't even sit up," Maggie replies with a laugh as she opens the bottle and inserts a pink straw in it. "You might choke or the food might not go down so well. My father said he'll explain everything later in the evening when he comes to check up on you."

Maggie then places the large spoon into the tea cup and holds it on her lap as I take the bottle from her. She gazes at me with awe in her eyes.

"We're really glad you're okay," Maggie says with a smile.

"Thank you," I say as I return the smile. "I appreciate you taking care of me."

Maggie moves some of my curly hair from my face and pats my head lightly. There's a knock at the entrance. We turn to see Carl come through the curtain into the cell, his hands behind his back, gazing at me.

"Carl," Beth says in surprise.

"Is everything okay?" Maggie asks.

"Can I get some time alone with Michelle?" he pleads.

]

"Yeah, of course," Maggie responds. "Michelle's all done with her delicious, medicated tea."

"Very tasty," I play along with her sarcasm in between large sips of the liquid from the bottle.

She laughs as she stands up with the tea and spoon in her hands. Beth also stands up with Judith in her arms. Carl moves to the side so that they can get to the doorway.

"Get some rest soon, Michelle," Beth says turning to me as Maggie holds the curtain up for her.

I nod to both of them with an assuring smile. They then walk out of the cell. Carl continues to stand near the doorway with his hands behind his back, his gaze down at the ground.

"What's going on, Carl?" I ask with a smile before drinking out of the straw. "You okay?"

He doesn't answer and just walks up next to my bed.

"I came to show my appreciation and to apologize," he finally says gazing down at me.

"Apologize?" I ask with a slight tilt of my head. "Apologize for what, Carl?"

"I asked you to do me the favor of watching over my dad…" he begins. "And because of that, you ended up getting shot."

I then recall his favor and understand where he's coming from.

"I shouldn't have put that pressure on you," he continues, looking down in guilt. "I feel partly at fault for what happened to you…I hope you can forgive me."

He moves his hand from behind him and holds a small bouquet of yellow and red flowers in a tall, clear plastic cup.

"I know it's not much, but I wanted to give this to you to show thanks and appreciation for what you've done…" he explains.

"Carl…" I say as I take the cup full of flowers with a smile. "Have a seat…" I say pointing to the chair next to my bed.

He sits down and faces me, giving me all of his attention. I finish the last of the liquid inside the small bottle and reach my arm down to place it on the floor next to me bed.

"Don't feel guilty for what happened to me," I begin to explain. "The majority of it was because of my stupidity. As for the shot, yes, I did remember your favor…But it wasn't just because of it that I took a bullet for your father…I would've taken it regardless of the favor…I'd take a bullet for anyone here…because I care about all of you."

He stares at me in astonishment.

"Come here," I say as I motion for him to lean closer.

He listens, and I plant a kiss on his forehead through his dark brown bangs. This surprises him as he looks at me in wonder.

"As for the flowers," I say looking at them. "They are beautiful…Thank you, Carl. I appreciate your gift and your concern."

Carl's surprised expression then turns into a warm smile. I return it as I take a hold of his hand and squeeze it lightly. A yawn then escapes from my mouth.

"I should leave you to rest," Carl says. "You still need to recover a lot."

"Yeah, the medicine Hershel gave me is making me drowsy…" I say as I rub my eye.

Carl takes the cup of flowers from me and places it next to my bed on the floor. He stands up from the chair and looks down at me.

"Thanks again, Michelle," he says with a nod.

"You're welcome, Carl," I say with a smile.

Carl then makes his way to the exit and leaves. I smile to myself and slowly feel my eyes close.

'Such a nice boy…' I think to myself.

After a few minutes, I finally fall asleep.

I hear some noises inside my cell and feel someone sit on the edge of my bed. I gasp and dart my eyes open and jerk my body up in fear, thinking that an intruder is in my cell.

"Whoa, whoa, easy, easy…" Rick says as he leans over me and lightly pushes me down. "It's just me…"

"It seems you're dealing with some post-traumatic stress," Hershel says as he sits on the chair, stirring some tea in a cup.

I sigh in relief as I place my hand over my forehead.

"I guess the assault from two days ago triggered my PTSD from when I was in the military…" I say with my eyes closed, trying to calm my breathing. "I haven't had that happen to me in so long…"

I notice that the room is slightly darker with only the lantern lighting up the room.

"Is it night time already?" I ask as I flinch in pain from my sides.

"Yep…" Hershel says as he leans forward to me with the cup of tea in his hand. "Everyone's about to head to sleep…I've made you some more of the tea Maggie gave you earlier today."

"Oh, that medicated tea, yes…" I say sarcastically.

I open my mouth and Hershel pours a spoonful carefully into it. I cringe a bit at the taste.

"How are you feelin'?" Rick asks.

"Still in pain…" I say as Hershel goes to give me another spoonful of tea.

"Judging by your condition," Hershel says as he gets another spoonful of tea. "You'll take about two months for a full recovery."

"Two months?!" I say almost spilling tea out of my mouth but then swallow it. "Ugh, that's horrible…"

"You should be able to move about within three weeks," Hershel says as he pours another spoonful of tea into my mouth. "But you're banned from runnin' or doin' any sorts of physical demanding activities until you've made a full recovery."

"I heard my diet is going to be altered…"

"Yes, you'll be drinkin' a lot of protein shakes, which are made of water and protein powder, and other liquids for a while," he says before giving me another spoonful of tea. "The protein shake will provide you with enough nutrients until you're able to sit up and eat solid food. You can't eat solids layin' down because they won't digest well, especially being bedridden for weeks."

"So my meal plan is sipping a few protein shakes a day through a pink straw – awesome," I say after gulping down another spoonful of bitter tea.

Rick scoffs at me with a smile.

"That's the last of the tea…" Hershel says as he pours a spoonful into my mouth. "Here's your protein shake to help work out the meds in the tea," Hershel says as he hands me the clear water bottler with the straw in it.

I take the bottle from him and begin to sip through the pink straw.

"These shakes will fill ya up and cut your hunger so you won't starve," Hershel adds.

"I feel like I'm back in the military again…" I joke.

"Then be glad you're used to it," Hershel jokes back.

I smile as I sip through the pink straw.

"Well, I'll be headin' to bed now," Hershel says as he stands up. "Make sure she finishes that bottle, Rick," he tells Rick while pointing at me. "She survived being beaten to a pulp and a shot to the chest; we'll be damned if we let her die of starvation."

I nearly spit the protein shake out of my mouth due to laughing at Hershel's remark. Rick begins to chuckle a bit as well.

"I'll be sure to do that," Rick reassures Hershel with a nod.

"Very well, then…" Hershel says as he makes his way toward the doorway of the cell. "Good night to you both," and walks through the curtain.

"I love Hershel," I say as I continue to sip through the straw. "He is hilarious."

"Yeah, that's Hershel for you," Rick says as he smiles at me.

"How was your day today?" I ask after gulping a mouthful down of the protein shake.

"Pretty good…typical day; worked on the farm with Hershel, inspected around the prison gates…the usual."

I continue to sip the protein shake through the straw as I listen. Rick turns his attention to the flowers in the clear cup beside my bed.

"Who brought you the flowers?" he asks.

"Carl," I respond after swallowing some protein shake. "He felt a bit at fault for what happened to me."

"Because of the favor?"

"Yeah…he apologized to me for putting that sort of pressure on me. Of course, I comforted him and told him it wasn't his fault at all – I still would've saved your ass regardless," I say to him with a sheepish smile.

He chuckles a bit.

"He also expressed his guilt to me the day after you blacked out," he says. "He was relieved when I told him you finally woke up today…Disappeared I guess to find you some nice flowers."

"He's such a sweet boy," I say while holding the straw in my mouth.

"Yeah…he is…" Rick says as he gazes down at the floor with a small smile.

There's a moment of silence. I study Rick and see that something's on his mind as he rubs his chin.

"I don't think I would be able to handle seeing one of my kids the way you did with Elena…" Rick states. "In fact, I'd probably go insane…I'd probably have no reason to live…What you went through was very traumatic…"

I sit there and listen to him, staring at him as I sip through the straw.

"You lost all of your family…yet, you still find a reason to live…to help people," Rick says as he gazes at me with wonder in his blue eyes. "You continue to keep a smile on your face and stay hopeful…That's remarkable."

I gaze at him in awe at his words. He then places his hand over mine and gently squeezes it.

"I admire you for all of that," he continues. "And I want you to know that you aren't alone…You really do have a family here…a home."

I smile warmly at him.

"You're gonna make me cry, Rick," I say as I cover my face with my hand and smile. "You're making me blush…"

Rick chuckles lightly as he continues to gaze at me and squeezes my hand gently. I look up at his mesmerizing blue eyes and feel a bit shy, so I look away and sip some more of the protein shake through the pink straw until I feel that no more comes up. I look at the bottle and see that it's empty.

"Well, I finished the shake," I say while shaking the bottle in front of me. "Won't be dying of starvation," I say with a nervous laugh.

I yawn then escapes from my mouth. Rick takes this as a sign to leave.

"I'll let you sleep now," Rick says as he lets go of my hand, realizing that he's been holding it for a while and is now embarrassed.

He gets up on his feet and turns to the doorway, avoiding my gaze.

"You know my cell is right next door," he says not looking at me. "You call if you need me."

With that, he walks through the curtain of the doorway. I stare after him in wonder, holding the water bottle on my chest.

'Well…looks like Hershel's right…' I think to myself. 'No matter how much I am in denial…I know I am developing feelings for this man…'

I then reach my arm down to the floor and place the empty bottle there next to my bed. The lantern is dim, so I manage to close my eyes and drift into sleep.


End file.
